Two sides to every story

Friday night, on a rare and wondrous occasion, my best friend L was able to escape her house and I was child-free.  GIRL TIME!  L is the (step)mother of 3 kids, and I am the single mother of 3 kids which means free time is a rarity for both of us.  For us to both be free on the same night is actually unheard of.  In fact the last time the two of us got to hang out (besides the quick lunch hour) was 3 years ago, on her 21st birthday, exactly 3 days before she found out she was pregnant.  

So, we went out Friday night.  YEAH!  Got out nails done, grabbed a burger, then had a couple of drinks at a dive bar and caught up on all the latest in each other’s lives. In other words we talked about the kids. Even when we’re away from them, there they are.  We’re such good moms and pathetic party girls.

At 10:00 she had to head home and save hubster from the 3 little Indians.  I headed home too but thoroughly thrilled to have spent a few hours with L.  On my way home I called Z, who happened to be out with his best friends who had come in for the weekend.  

Z: So, what are you two doing?
B: Going home.
Z: You’re going to your place?
B: Yes, where else?
Z: Will you be there all night?
B: I live there, where else would I be?
Z: What are you going to do when you get there?
B: Probably go to bed
Z: Oh my God. Oh my God.

What makes that conversation exceptionally funny is that Z was thinking, hoping, praying, wishing, dreaming that both of us (L and I) were going home to my place, all night, to go to bed, together.  I didn’t lie.  We were both going home, yes we would both be home all night, yes I was going to my place, and yes, we were both going to bed when we got home (to our respective homes).  Is it my fault his fantasy was a little over the top, and completely out of hand?