posted by susan-oh-susan / may 6 at 9:22 pm / uncategorized / 4 comments
Tyler’s birthday is coming up, on May 13, and I was full of plans and cakes and recipes. I was thinking, maybe I’d even go dancing with him, why not?
And then…
“I’m going to go away for my birthday weekend, ok, Mom?” he said. “Gonna meet up with some friends in Kelowna, where it’s actually spring. We’re going to camp and boat. And go cliff jumping,” he added, poking me in the ribs.
“Oh.” I guess my face fell. And I thought about Reza’s face falling when he discovered yard work meant raking up dead leaves and not something more manly. And I smiled.
“I don’t want to see Dad,” Tyler said, looking not exactly at me, but sort of at the air beside me. “You know? I mean, I see him at work every day. And I expect we will go for an awkward birthday lunch. But I don’t want to deal with… him asking what I’m doing for my birthday. And if it’s with you. And if he can join. I’m just going to go away.”
“Oh.” My face didn’t fall, but I think it tensed up. I felt… so bad. Because… God, it’s my baby’s birthday and he deserves to just have a good birthday and not worry about… which parent to spend it with and how.
And tears circled in my eyes, and then I was like, no, that’s manipulating him too, don’t cry, stupid Susan! But it was too late, and my bear-sized baby was hugging me.
“It’s ok, Mom. I don’t mind. I want to see my friends,” he said.
“University friends?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Boys or girls?” I asked inanely.
He laughed.
“Does it matter?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Suppose not.”
And then I realized…
“But you’re also going to miss Mother’s Day!”
And he flushed—because he hadn’t actually realized that. We were both silent for a while.
Then he suggested we go have a joint on the porch.
So we did.
“Look at the bright side,” Tyler said after a while. “You can have your guy over all weekend and have noisy rowdy sex in every room in the house.” We both laughed, me awkwardly, he, I think, with genuine pleasure. “Except mine,” he added after a pause. And then I laughed with no restraints and hugged him so madly and happily, and covered his face with kisses the way I did when he was eight.
And we made plans to have his birthday dinner on Thursday the tenth. He’ll have a birthday lunch with John on the Friday, and then take the afternoon off work and head out to Kelowna right after that.
“Back either early Monday morning or late Sunday night,” he said. “I’ll text you from the road. So there won’t be any… surprises.”
And this time, I didn’t laugh, because… well, he was joking, but not, you know?
He was ok with me having a… man in my life. But he wasn’t loving it. And he didn’t want to…
Well. He definitely did not want to meet him, that was clear. Especially accidentally.
Anyway.
I have things to cook and cakes to bake.
*
4 comments on Boring is better than complicated:
ilikeherbooty-full: And cherry pie to bake. For Reza and Jerome.
susan-oh-susan: Oh you and your cherry pie.
ilikeherbooty-full: Don’t dis my cherry pie, Susan. I mean, your cherry pie. It’s getting you laid by a thirty-year-old Middle Eastern stud.
BeautifulThingsEveryday: Much as I hate to agree with Jerome… ;P
…
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