Yesterday was a busy day. A really busy day. So busy that the only way I could have written a post is if I had turned down Boo's request to play Settlers of Catan.
There was a period of time where I had to drive from a Parent Breakfast a few towns north of us to our house to pick up Wonderdog, then to our dog school which is about 20 minutes away, then back to our house to drop Wonderdog off, then up to Boo's school, where I was meeting Hopper at a nearby diner for lunch before we both went to the school to work on a fundraising project. I was about half way from our house to the diner when I got a text from Hopper.
Where are you?
I was annoyed. I already walked out on my class at exactly 12:00, even though it was running over. I rushed home, got Wonderdog settled, grabbed my stuff and hopped back in the car. In my haste, I forgot to bring a snack that Boo would need at her after school activity and would have to buy one. I wasn't late, so why was he texting me? But I was at a red light (I only read texts when the car is stopped) so I texted back.
A minute later, the phone beeps again, but now I was driving, so I just kept driving while I seethed. I tried to rationalize away my anger, thinking that Hopper probably just has a table saved, or wanted to know my ETA, or thought I got there first and he couldn't find me. He DOES have a habit, I reminded myself, of replying to every text, even when it isn't necessary. Probably that text just said, "OK."
When I arrived at the diner, I looked at my phone.
Aren't we meeting for lunch?
Well, that was odd. I had to drive through Ridgewood to get from our house to the diner, so "Ridgewood" seemed to me a reasonable, if terse, answer. But, I had arrived, so we'd soon set it straight.
I walked into the diner, and told the person who greeted me that I was meeting my husband. "He's not here yet," came the reply. "Would you like to sit at a booth while you wait?"
Not here yet? How was that possible? He had been pissing me off complaining about my non-lateness for the past five to eight minutes.
"But he's been texting me," I said.
The kind man agreed that that was strange, then helped me search the restaurant, where there were exactly zero men sitting alone. I decided the time for texting had passed, and placed an actual call.
"Hopper? Where are you?"
"I'm at the diner near work."
I humbly accepted the booth the man had offered and sat down to order for both of us, since it would take Hopper at least 20 minutes to get from his work to Boo's school.
When the food arrived, I texted Hopper to let him know it was getting cold.
Then I ate half his fries.