It’s like the hits just keep on coming this week.
Yesterday morning, I decided to treat myself and booked a pedicure for after work. So at 4:30, I was sitting in a big massage chair, my feet immersed in soapy hot water.
At 4:35, my phone buzzed. It was The Daughter. She asked, “When are you coming home?”
Now the only time The Daughter texts me is when she needs something, and it usually involves a ride somewhere. So I responded, “I’m at an appointment right now so I’m not sure.”
Then she wrote, “okay. The Son’s phone seems to be dead and I don’t know where my keys are.”
Dad nags the kids incessantly about making sure they have their keys when they leave the house. But as usual, sometimes they don’t listen.
The Son is usually home by 4pm, so The Daughter assumed his phone was dead as he wasn’t answering her, or he was inside the house, with headphones on, playing his DS.
Both would have been valid situations.
I responded that if he isn’t home, he might still be at school working on his project. There have been days when he stayed til five to work on his art.
Long story short, we texted for a while about what to do. I would not be home until at least 5:30, so I was of no use to her. She decided to go to a friend’s house and I would text her when I got home.
I texted at 5:47 when I got home. The Daughter had to clean her room, pack her stuff and eat before going back to school at 6:30 for a band concert.
She told me when she got home at six that The Son was at Mom’s house.
I find out later from Mr. J that Mom picked up the Son, they went to do an eye test and then picked out glasses; then he went to her house to work on homework.
I asked Mr. J if he knew about this before it happened. He said he did.
So at this time, had I actually KNOWN what was going on, had he actually told me, I could have told The Daughter at 4:30 what was going on. She could have gone to her mom’s house.
But also… The Son has his keys. Mom could easily have run him over to unlock the door then gone back. Instead, The Daughter was stranded – by her own fault of course.
And yet again I see myself being left out of the loop. Even when it comes to dinner – I had no idea The Son would not be there, and had I known, I would have just picked up a pizza on my way home after my pedicure, rather than stress about cooking something in 30 minutes before we had to leave.
And it gets better.
We sit through the concert. At one point there is an announcement that the Jazz band had won an award, and that they were invited to play at a prestigious local music festival in June.
I asked Mr. J if he knew about it and he said yes.
“Oh,” I said, “I didn’t.”
We talked briefly before the concert started about the lack of communication between us and nothing was really resolved. I can’t force him to tell me things, but seriously, whenever something good happens – especially the Jazz band news – would you not want to share that news with the person you are living with?
I was going to use the term your ‘significant other’ but in reality I am not significant at all. I think that is the biggest realization. Is he taking me for granted? I’m good enough to share bills and cook and all the other crap I do around the house but when it comes to good news, I am not important enough to share it with? Or is it that he hears it then forgets about it immediately?
His wife is still his significant other. No matter what the separation agreement says.
But I? I am insignificant.