Dreaming is still how the strong survive in The Tightrope Dance (August 2019)

So, the twins didn’t tell me they were camping out this weekend. Picture this shit.

Sleeping, because Supernatural switched off around 5 am. Thunderstorms all night, so bed full of really upset cats. And it’s a twin bed, folks, and they are not small cats. Kids thunder in. “MOM not everyone will fit in K’s dad’s car for the renaissance fair! We gotta go in your car.”

“Oh my fucking god, you’re kidding.”

“No they have stuff in the car and we don’t all fit.”

“Fuuuuu.” Snortle awake, find pants, twist hair into bun, stumble toward shoes, remember keys, return. “You got pads for all day?”

“Yeah mom.” Shows me purse.

Okay, whatev. I’ll have her home around 7, right, and it’s right behind a Target, I can get her more pads, whatever. Might hang out in that Target, write ALL day, save some gas. Damn I’m cool.

Head off. Use Google Maps. No I-5 means I can DO THIS. Let the kids jam out to Block B, BTS and EXO the whole way to Bonney Lake. I’m the cool mom, bro. Get there.

Laina’s got a bag. Say what?

Kitten’s counting her pads for me. “No, you need more than 4 to get to like 7 pm, kid. You gotta plan on changing every 2 hours.”

“All night, mom.”

“WTAF.”

“Yeah we’re camping.”

“WTAF.”

Locate toothbrushes for the kids. Find ibuprofen in Bag. Give Kitten the whole bag of Emergency Pads from glove box. WTAF. Sunscreen. Picture phone. Jeepers.

And then the little shits said goodbye and they haven’t called home and I am so sad.

And then I couldn’t take the exact same route backwards from Bonney Lake and ended up crying in Orting, in the Safeway parking lot, terrified I’d never get home again. And eating a bagel. They have nice bagels.

Only it turns out Orting is “just slightly behind Frederickson Winco and to the side a bit.” I knew where I was like 15 minutes into Google Maps. And I couldn’t pull over and turn it off.

So I cried in Orting for no real reason, except that I woke up Spouse, who wasn’t at all upset that I’d been to BONNEY LAKE minus a license and with three kids and stuff. He was also not upset I was in Orting. Had no advice.

That was upsetting, right there. He should care that I am lost in Orting. Even if I can (and did) get my own ass home, he should CARE. But he didn’t care. He was utterly unconcerned.

Am I wrong if I think “that ain’t love?” Because if it is, I don’t want it, anyway. I want a partner that cares that I think I’m lost and I’m afraid I won’t find home and I only have half a tank of gas (more than enough, turns out) and I don’t have money on me (some in a jar) and I’m really scared. But I don’t have that partner.

The long drive did give me a new character, though. I named him Taliesin and he is a sidhe bard. He may either make up funny little bits of divination in song or have a lute that tells the future, musically. Kind of a clairaudience thing.

And those two refugees from Hogwarts are still duking it out sexually, this time on a picnic table. Send help.

Or really good erotica.

Or nudes.