I Don’t Like You!


That’s ok kid, I know that’s not what you mean.

What you mean is, I don’t like that my mom leaves when you show up.

Nobody likes that.

I understand the correlation, but you like me.

You do.

How do I know?

You told me so.

Oh my heart.

It was a full day, a good day, a big day for staying at home and in pajamas as long as possible since it was also rather a grey day, a dreary overcast day, threatening, so it seemed at one point, to rain down on the city, so pjs and snacks and stories for the late morning into early afternoon, naps and quiet time.

It was a busy day because it was the second day off from school for the oldest boy, so I had two guys on my hands today and lots to do.

But somehow it all got done.

In addition to it all getting done there was also pirates, swashbuckling adventures on the high seas, telescopes, eagles nests, scurvy!

How does one get a little pirate to eat their zucchini?

Scurvy.

Arrrr.

There were also sea monsters, astronauts, space ships, zip lines through the jungle, excavators, working guys, and coloring of maps, hiding of secret pirate treasures and the unearthing of said booty.

Plus, pooping.

And peeing.

On the potty.

Potty training is happening for the two-year old and it’s going pretty smashingly.

Actually having the older brother around while using the little potty has been super helpful.

That and food bribes.

They love grapes.

So, use the potty, get grapes.

Not a bad trade-off.

And the trade-off to being told that “I don’t like you” this morning was a very happy, contented sweet little guy crawling into my lap, the older boy, the four-year old, after dinner.

“Can I sit in you lap,” he said already crawling into my arms.

Then he tucked his head down underneath my chin and snuggled with me, “I love you.”

Heart melting.

“I love you too.”

We sat and watched his younger brother fling fish about and rice and the happy, I mean very happy, family dog snuffle it all up like the best vacuum cleaner ever.

Then it was bath time, pajama time, rescue on the high seas time, submarine ship time, make pretend avocado sandwich time, more using the potty time, marching band time, and last but certainly not least, snuggle in nanny lap time while I read them Dr. Seuss’s “Oh the Places You’ll Go.”

Not a bad day for Mary Fucking Poppins.

Not bad at all.

Lest you think that all I do is the deal with my nanny charges, whilst hoisting the pretend Jolly Roger on the stroller on the way to the park, I did also confirm that I have a date on Sunday.

Yup.

Coffee at Trouble.

Hike at Fort Funston after.

Not that I will be hiking any huge hills, but the paths around there should be just fine.

I’m not really sure that this is going to work, he’s an acquaintance/friend I have known for years, but we rarely see each other off of social media since I moved out of the Mission.

I am not certain there’s chemistry there, but, well, like I said, trying the different things hoping for different results.

Instead of doing the same thing expecting different results.

The difference, it is subtle, no?

Yet huge.

I don’t expect he’s the one, in fact I don’t suspect that any man is the one, that just puts a whole house load of pressure on any guy that I am dating.

Not really a fair proposition.

However, I do suspect that he’s part of the process and that it will lead to where I am supposed to be.

I am just dating.

I am going to try to have one date a week.

That is the goal.

Once a week, go on a date, whether it’s for coffee, to the movies, out for dinner, playing pinball at Free Gold Watch, going dancing, walking the beach, hiking in Muir woods, making out on a cable car, walking the labyrinth at Grace Cathedral, going roller skating on Sundays in the park swing dancing (not that I do either of the later very well), going to the Conservatory of Flowers, taking in the view from the top deck of the DeYoung Museum, eating a bowl of pho, walking around North Beach, going to the big kite store in China Town, swinging on the swings at South Park, seeing a show, walking along the Embarcadero, going to the Farmer’s Market, taking a ferry to Sausalito, what ever it is.

I am going to do one date a week.

Until something happens.

I might crack.

I might get a boyfriend.

I might have some hilarious stories.

I might be kissed.

I might get flowers.

I might hear some really bad jokes.

I might have to sit through some odd dates with odd ducks.

But I will be out there doing it, rather than sitting at home twiddling my thumbs and wondering why a girl is going home early on a Friday night.

Not that I can do anything this Friday though.

I am working for the family so that mom and dad can attend a friend’s going away party.

The nice thing about it is that I won’t have to start on Friday until 2 p.m.

I could actually go out Thursday, if I wanted to.

Thursday’s are a tough night, close to the weekend, but not quite, so I don’t want to count on it, but it will be awful nice to sleep in on Friday.

And Uber to and from work.

The family is going to cover that so that I don’t have to ride my bike home at midnight.

I asked the mom the details about the evening and said I would like to have an Uber home or a taxi cab and as I did not want to ride my bike home at midnight through drunk infested waters in the Mission, and she said of course!

And before I said anything about just taking MUNI in for work, she said, “and you’ll Uber to work too, we’ll cover it.”

Damn Gina.

Thank you new family.

I’m feeling the love.

It doesn’t hurt that it’s wrapped up in adorable little boys either.

Especially when I get the hug and squish at the end of the day.

Today was a good day.

And a date for the weekend.

Not too shabby.

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