Peek-a-boo
Wednesday's birthday was mostly about big joints meeting finger tips and lips and compliments, but for me...
I told two fathers simply about the dream I had where my child lay in discomfort, crying for resources, and how the baby was so huge and so heavy I could not lift it on my own. I would rely on others to assist in diaper changes or feedings and I was oh-so-stressed-out and in need of a walk. After a good time away I was miles from home before realizing that I had left my infant at home unsupervised. Surging with panic, I raced back to the crib.
The fathers hung their heads. One asked if this was a re-occurring dream.
I said I was unsure whether I had the dream once or twice, but it was certainly no more than twice.
The other father explained to me that having a dream twice, would make that dream 're-occurring' and laughed while his Coors Light melted and his halter-topped girlfriend grinned in more lipstick than clothes.
I left this conversation immediately. If I had two licks of testosterone, things might have ended badly or better depending on how you look at it. Maybe depending on how much testosterone you've got.
A few more stubborn conversations later I found my keys on the floor, and I was reminded to leave. I grabbed my purse and kissed good night the birthday honorees, just missing a man in the corner that I hide from nowadays that maybe hides from me too.