I’ve been dying to address this for the last two weeks:
I was going to discuss how:
- I knew I’d be home late from work and thus, prior to leaving for the day, I took out a can of Chicken Noodle and steamed some broccoli for Maya’s dinner. (Don’t be too jealous of my culinary skills.)
- Prior to my departure, I informed my husband of the latitude and longitude of Maya’s meal in our super full fridge (note sarcasm) to avoid receiving terse text messages insisting, “Maya’s food is not in the fridge. I checked.”
- I’d instructed my husband not to let Maya go crazy with the Chex and string cheese, no matter how much she hassled him.
- I’d advised Ali to assure Maya that no, life is not fair. And yes, Mom is mean.
But then this happened:
A hit and run.
And then Ali told me that because he didn’t chase down the other driver to obtain a license plate number, our fabulous insurance company is making us cover the deductible. On top of that they informed us that it’ll be 2 months before the car is fixed and they have no plans to provide us with a rental during that time.
So I felt bad and decided to cut my husband some slack on the whole soup debacle. But it’s been a couple of weeks, Ali is driving his parent’s extra car again, and my sympathy has worn off.
And now that the debacle has finally been addressed? I feel…liberated.