I had a dream once in which I caught Lauren adding to a list on a Steno pad. When I asked what the list was, dream Lauren said, “It’s everything you do wrong and everything you do to annoy me.” When I told her about said dream, Lauren said, “That sounds like something you would do.” Even better, the kids latched onto it, and when small grievances would arise, they would say, “Well that one is sure going down on Mom’s Steno pad.”
The joke grew further when we were in the car together, and I said, “You know, I would like credit for all the things I find annoying about you but that I don’t say.”
Lauren laughed and said, “Like what?”
And I said, “If I told you, I couldn’t get the credit for not saying it. I’ll just have to note it in my own Steno pad.”
“Do you need to alert me every time you’re making a note without saying what it is?”
“I think I can just let you know every time I hit, say, fifty new entries.”
“Great idea,” she said.
This morning, I took Dobby for an early walk, and Lauren took Graham to school. We managed to arrive back home at the same time. Dobby is triggered by cars, and so as we walked down the driveway, Lauren crept along behind us and Dobby went full alert and attack mode. I had three bags of dog poop in one hand, his leash in the other, and of course, in his excitement, Dobby caught the leash under his hind leg. So then I had to stop and untangle him while he pulled like crazy trying to get at the car.
Once I got free, I approached the garage, while the car crept behind and Dobby tried to lunge for it. I needed to open the garage to put the poo bags in the dumpster. We have an outside key-code box to open the garage. I glanced at the car, though, thinking Lauren could just use the garage door opener in the car. Her head was down as she tapped away on her phone. It was 17 degrees out. The numbers barely registered as a I punched them. Dobby yanked and pulled, nearly tripping me. First entry of the code failed. I looked at Lauren again. Head still down, fingers still tapping on phone. I tapped the code again. This time, it opened, and then I had to untangle my legs from the leash, open the lid and toss in the bags one handed, and get Dobby inside. While I did all this, I thought, I’m gonna give Lauren hell about this. She could have just punched the button from the warmth of the car.
Then, my better angel said, No, I will just write that in my Steno and let it go. I was feeling hugely proud of my great maturity when my wrist vibrated. I shut off the house alarm and looked at my phone. It was a text and pictures from Lauren to the Goons.
Lauren: Watch the live!
So the whole time I was struggling and she was on her phone, she was not dealing with school committee or supporting a friend or checking our bank account or even reading the news? She was taking pictures of Dobby and me to laugh at us?
Maturity gone.
Me: There’s mom taking pictures of me rather than opening the damn door on a 17-degree morning while I wrestle with the dog and bags of 💩
Lauren: My bad. I was in a state of fear, what with that wolf in our driveway and all.
Me: Uh huh.
Now look how petty I am, writing a whole story about it. I will accept your condolences and well wishes now. It’s been a week.
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