I don’t think that I want to go to my parent’s house much anymore. I will plan a Thanksgiving dinner the weekend that I have my son and host it at my house. I picked up burgers and fries at a pub. My stomach, which literally never hurts, feels like it has a grease rock in it. I hauled ass out of their house as fast as I could. I’m going to have to look for something different for November. I’m thinking that our Y has a Day Camp, and that is going to be what he has to do.
Sometimes my son gets a little bit entitled. He complains and gets bossy and refuses tasks. After I brought him home this evening, he was completely delightful. Honestly. He and I talked while I loaded the dishwasher and then we put together one of those giant puzzles that only has a frame that is interlocking and makes the edges. I talked to him the whole time that he was in the bath, and read him his nightly story.
I asked him if he knew that he was super pleasant, compliant, and sweet after a night or two away from me. He looked at me with his incredible blue eyes and said, “I didn’t know that.” I told him that we should concentrate on times like this, so we can have connected and good times. He told me that he missed me. I missed him for two nights too.
I still haven’t connected with my girlfriend. There is a world of difference between one and four kids. I respect it though, because she does it right. So, we’ll talk when we can, but I get the impression that she needs some space, so I’ll just wait to hear from her. I would never do anything to smother or fuck it up. “Love is like a blanket. It gets a little bit to warm sometimes. I want to wrap somebody in it who can hold me in [her] arms.”