SIDE NOTE: read my Prologue again and still had a light laugh. I took a look at all the other parts and was inspired to carry on. Below is the setup for the next steps. I think the newly divorced BFF Elle will discover it’s a different world dating in your 30s. Vivienne is going to deal with some type of hilarious child barf episode.
We pull in front of the school just in time to see that both my parents and my husband there. WTF?!? The cabby asks if he should wait and I wonder if I should just turn around. But, what’s the point? $200 later and the meeting already being over, it would be an even bigger waste. I pay the cabby and walk towards the main entrance and the familyness to come.
I know I should just be in the moment and be happy that everyone is here to help my little monkey, I have a day off work and my family is here. Instead my mom talks loudly, some people might call it yelling, “why are you here?!”. Followed by my dad right on cue “why aren’t you at work?”. My parents are old school in their strong work ethic. There is no reason to miss work. Not feeling well? Take a Tylonal and go to work. Tired? Go to work and go to bed early after.
And then there’s The Husband with his golfing tan and relaxed demeanor. “Hey babe. What are you doing here?” Ugh! Where was everyone 30 minutes ago??. I want to say that my frustration melted away and I walked up the path with a smile on my face and love in my heart like in all those chick-lit books I read, but instead my heals clickity clack loudly on the cement walk way, I give a side eye to The Husband, and ask my parents where were they. I know my tone is the wrong one. I try not the have an attitude, but it still comes out strained. “Oh ,we were just picking up some bananas and medicine.” my dad says. How can I possibly be annoyed about that? Well, I can! “You carry your phone with you everywhere, but you never answer!!”, I rant internally. “We tried calling you, but you didn’t answer.”, my mom adds. I instinctively check my phone and see I’ve missed 3 calls. Sigh. Fucking Mondays.