I’m so drunk I’m not sure I should still be conscious. We went to a dinner party and by we, I mean me, the Gurl Child and TBone. I drank a lot of sangria…that I made and brought and then drank most of...whatever. He’s still here and I’ll tell you why later. Suffice it to say, he’s a stupid man and he said those exact words to me and it moved me to not move him out of my life.
In any case, we went. I drank. A lot. But… I can always say what I mean when I drink and I feel good about it. We stumbled home from the fiesta and I got into the shower, my phone wailing music on the counter….me, flawlessly crooning alongside it.
“WELL I’M ON THE DOWNEASTER ALEXA!!!!!!!”
Yes that shit’s on my playlist…fuck you. Billy Joel is a legend.
Anyway…I open my eyes from my stellar warbling to find TBone’s smiling mug poked around the edge of the shower curtain. He’s smiling with undisguised amusement and affection and I love him some more. Still with the niggling thought in the deepest subconscious recesses of my mind. There she is holding a clipboard and marking off my inadequacies on a list she has clipped there with no amusement whatsoever. I hate that fucking bitch. She’s always there, telling me all I’ve forgotten, slipped on, given in on, let slide and haven’t done. She keeps me in line.
I had been wailing with abandon and I’m sure the only thing between me and a million dollars is that I’m fucking a hot 6’4” ex-Navy bail bondsman and not Simon Cowell so he could be the clueless schmuck bringing me sangria in the shower. Again, anyway…I got out of the shower and found a text from my son.
Boi Child: Hello
Me: Hey my first born
BC: What you mean?
BC: I love and miss you.
Me: I love and miss you too little man.
BC: Yeah so can I have my birthday present early???
BC: Ok well I found brand new tires and he said $150.
Me: Well we will see.
BC: Ok well I need the rim first and then the tires, hunh?
Me: Yessir. We can work all this shit out. Always. It’s always a brand new day when you wake up my fierce young man. Seize the fucking day. Every day.
Me: Let’s make it better.
BC: What you do with my mom?
Here’s a kid that has been through hell with me and has no anchor. Here’s also a kid that upon meeting TBone’s gay son, poked him in the head and made him part of his group with no reservations. Here’s a kid that still loves me even though he knows how imperfect I am. I may have fucked up a lot of shit but my son knows he can count on me. It’s all okay. It’s never too late to make it okay. We can always make it okay.
I don’t know much…but this shit….I know. I totally got this.