So in the excitement of finding out my son might not just be a gigantic pain in the butt after all, and all of your lovely comments (thank you so much, you lovely pretty people who are pulling for my kid), I didn’t even think to mention that Otto was here.
Was. Past tense. Because he was here for about a day and then he left. I think it was something I said.
It wasn’t anything I said, really. He was just passing through on his way to an adjacent state and managed to stop here long enough for me to give him a haircut and feed him some fried rice. Because he has priorities.
Having him here so briefly is bittersweet, of course, because on the one hand I’m very grateful to see him at all, but on the other just one day seems like a cruel tease. The sting of this fleeting visit is tempered somewhat by the fact that in just a couple of weeks, the kids and I are headed down to Georgia for our official scouting trip.
[Digression: OHMYGOD what if the kids hate it and what if we can’t find any houses we like to look at and what if the schools are yucky or what if the schools are great but the kids forget to use “sir” and “ma’am” and we’re tagged as those bratty Yankees? Or what if there’s one of those freak ice storms and we end up stuck in D.C. or something or, worse, circling the airport for a million hours or what if it snows HERE and I can’t GET to the airport in the first place? What if one of the kids gets sick or what if they are eaten by palmetto bugs or fall into the shark tank at the aquarium? There are SO MANY DISASTERS I can imagine about this trip and really so little time left to fully obsess over them properly!]
Where was I? Oh. Right. So we had about a day, and that was fine. We got up and had breakfast with the kids on Friday morning and walked them to the bus stop and then came back home and took a nap, because it’s important to find a partner who shares your interests and hobbies, and my hobby is sleeping. Later we got up and did a bit of work and ate lunch and puttered around and then the kids came home and we played with them for a while.
Otto also insisted on getting out his camera and torturing me with it, and if you didn’t believe me all of the times before when I said I was not very bright, believe it now, because there is nothing in the world I hate more than having my picture taken and I’m marrying a photographer. I will leave it to your imaginations to puzzle out how the scales tip heavily enough in his favor that I’m willing to overlook this one minor detail.
Shortly before I managed to distract him with a WILLING subject (“Chickadee! Otto would like to take your picture! Go over there!”), I did remind him that turnabout is fair play.
Then Monkey threatened to run away for some reason (it obviously made a real impression on me, because mostly all I remember about it was trying not to laugh), and after we convinced him to stay we all played Tribond Junior for a while before the kids headed over to their dad’s for the weekend.
After they left we picked up dinner and a movie and did our impression of an utterly boring couple and it was lovely.
This morning we slept in a bit and then Otto had to get up and drive on to his destination. I waited almost an hour after he left before I called him, too, which I think showed remarkable restraint on my part.
Before he left I made sad puppy eyes and said, “I wish you didn’t have to leave,” and Otto said he wished he didn’t have to, either, but that it was okay, because we’d see each other again in just a few weeks. Then we briefly discussed the next few visits, pointing out to each other—as we so often do—that we really should figure out when we’re going to get married. And we both nodded and agreed and said Yes, we should really figure that out soon.
And then Otto headed off for his weekend plans and I puttered around the house and ate leftover Chinese food and wondered if finding a dress to be married in is going to be more or less difficult than finding jeans that fit.