Transcript of Actual Conversation Between
Country Mouse And Her NonSon
Here's Why You're Glad You Don't Know Me In Person
Kristin: Have you been able to see a lawyer yet?
And if you knew something was seriously important to me and there was something easy that you could do to ease my anxiety and if I asked you to do it, would you?
NonSon: I talked to a lawyer...
Kristin: So I'm going to take your non answer as a no? You wouldn't do something simple for me if I asked you to? Alrighty then . . .
I'll let it go. For now. But only because you leave me no other choice : )
Kristin--hours later and feeling like she can't quite get her point across without sounding like a guilt-wielding mother:
Sooooo . . . I can never manage to say things the right way to you . My words always end up sounding like lectures. Or whining. Or guilt. But I never quite mean them that way : )
NonSon: what is your flavor? I mean... seriously?
Oh no. He. Did. Not. He did not just ask me what's my flavor! Like what's my brand of crazy? Like WTF is wrong with me? Oh. Hell. No.
Kristin: I can't decide whether to respond to this with lecture, whining or guilt. Or a hearty f*%$ you.
I think I'm not going to spend any more of my time trying to convince my husband that it's a good idea to be your safety net if you need one--or calling in favors from friends. That was a lot of sticking my neck out only to end up feeling so disrespected. [Yeah--I went with guilt. You earned it.]
So, good luck. Hope you land on your feet.
As always, you can call me if you really need something. I'll just be less happy about it than ever before.
Kristin--only moments later upon realizing what an asshat she's just been:
Subject: I have got to stop smoking crack!
Ummmm, pretend that last irritated message didn't happen. Let's just agree that waking up in a stupor at 2:30 in the morning after going to bed super early because you got no sleep the night before because your 12 year old was awake the entire night throwing up and you had to go to work anyway and then you read your e-mail--while still all blurry from sleep--is not a good idea. In fact it's a seriously sucky idea and might cause you to see the word "favor" and interpret it as "FLAVOR" and then go all "screw him--what's his deal--why oh why do I waste my time with a disrespectful, self-destructive, burn-all-bridges-because-he-isn't-truly-convinced-that-he's-worthy-of-unconditional-love boy."
And if you didn't already know the answer to what fLavor I am, you surely know it now. My flavor is Chock Full O' Nuts.
But the favor? That's another story : )
This is either creepy or touching. Depending on your perspective.
I lose sleep over the thought of losing you and never knowing what happened. So my favor is this: would you please give my name and phone number to someone so if there's an emergency they'll call me?
NonSon: It's funny you should ask that. I was kinda thinking about asking you if I could do that the other day. You're a dork. I love you.