Sunday Drop-off

Modern family issue.

"Hey kiddo, I was thinking, maybe I could take you home tomorrow night?  After I get home from work?  The highway's so busy right now kiddo. And it looks like rain.  But it's up to you."

"Oh that's a fair decision for him. Come on hun, he's only 8.  Simon, sweetie, it's totally up to you. Dad will take you home if you want.  It's not a big deal."

"She's right buddy - not a big deal. Just the traffic bud that's all I'm thinking about. A lot of traffic, could be a long ride."

"Will stop bringing up the traffic."

"Alright, alright. It's just I'm the one stuck driving in it."

"You could've taken him home earlier."

"And missed the movie - I promised him the damn movie all weekend Tori."

"You're right, you did.  And you also promised him mom you'd have him home tonight."

"Whatever, she can wait one night... not like she has to wait every other weekend to see him."

"Simon, bud, you thinking about it?  Any thoughts. You want to go home tonight?"

"Yea dad, I kinda do.  If that's ok?"

"Of course kiddo.  We'll just have to call your mom when we get back to the house.  Let her know we're going to be a little late.  Sound good bud?"

"Yea, ok.  Thanks dad."

I won't lie. Hearing him say he wanted to go home brought such relief to me I could barely contain my grin. It's not that I minded him.  It was more the unbalance he caused.  Everything in my life being whipped into a frenzy because he was there.  Like a child's birthday party.  A 48 hour birthday party/sleepover, requiring constant cheerfulness and entertainment.  That and my husband on edge, on constant edge, wanting everything to be wonderful and perfect for his eldest boy.  The ridiculous expectations he had on all of us, on himself.  How many times had I tried to talk him off that ledge.  To make him understand that it didn't need to be a 48 hour carnival, just to make it worthwhile.  Poor kid felt it to. I know he did.