Unexpected Fun

 Back to school time is particularly spiky this year. I hate the constant reminders of what we’re not. I’m not sure what is worse, those reminders or the negative reinforcement that I need to try to account and correct for. This shit is getting hard as the grey, wrinkles and all the ‘end of life’ cycles start to kick in.

There’s the added bit of “shit that never happened’ that unexpectedly and inconveniently rears its ugly head while we’re trying to do the business of living our lives.

Case in point; it’s Saturday night in a party town and it’s time for us to figure out dinner. I had my own ugly meltdown and a couple shitfits trying to get the boys and I from point A to point b with a stop in between. Here’s how I know I’m frayed; shit I used to hide effortlessly is waaaay out in the open. I don’t have the spoons to hide my crazy. I don’t care. I’m tired.

“Mom, let’s go,” elder said once we unpacked the car. “Let’s go to our usual.”

I don’t bother telling him that our usual wouldn’t be possible if we allowed him to dissuade us from coming in the first place. I’m tired. We head over to our place; there’s a line. I put us on the waitlist. We people watch. I sing 80s songs with younger as the house band plows through their playlist. We finally have a table; when younger gets carded, I explain we’re there for dinner. It’s the second time in as many hours my kids are carded. Elder is beside himself both times explaining he doesn’t drink. Younger is quiet and allows elder to speak for him. 

We sit. Order food. Sing along with the band. It occurs to me that I’m having a night out with the boys they should both be having with peers. But there’s only me. And we have fun anyway. And I have more fun with them than I did when I was their ages and struggling to fit in.

It occurs to me that they have the better deal.

And that gratitude is in order.

It could always be worse.

And they aren’t any the wiser.