The boyf

I have to say, whilst I spend most of time disliking anyone who has an interest of a sexual nature in the kid, this latest beau is growing in me. He's polite and seems to care about her. Not that she'd notice. He got the extra job so as he could get more money and come up and see her more often. Except now he works long hours and sometimes is too tired to hop on a bus and come all the way up to Dublin. Understandably. Yesterday, she was all chuffed because he was going to come up this evening and hang as he couldn't tomorrow because of band practice and work. We head grocery shopping. Thursday night after 7 is not a good time to go shopping in Clearwater. You've got Mammies with death written all over their faces as they navigate the aisles determined to get the special offers before everyone else. I nearly got a lobotomy from a flying pizza one day as the woman fought to get to the special on waffles. Survial of the fittest.

Whilst shopping with her list, longer then our actual shopping list, she rings to know if Mammy2 can drive to Kill this evening.

Mammy2 is a bit of a driver, it someone needs to go somewhere,chances are she'll offer to drive. However, I can visualise this becoming a regular occurence so I had said to her to say no. Of course there was silence and lots of raised voices. I was eavesdropping whilst trying to decide if we needed tomatoes or not. The kid hung up. We chatted a bit more, and Mammy2 rang her back to see what time he need to be picked up. Long story short, 8 o'clock this evening, she was to drive down and get him. Txt arrives as we are on the way home, not to worry about this evening, he didn't want to see her. I was pretty sure she was reading into his messages and I'm sure he valued his life more then to issue such a statement. I can her fashioning the voodoo doll.

We picked up takeout on the way home for her and we arrive in laden down with shopping bags. She's on the couch, black eyemakeup streaked down her face, sniffling and drawing, looking every inch the angsty teenager. She takes her chips and her coke and suffles onto the PC, all the time
muttering about how the boyf doesn't want to see , doesn't care, mentioned something about not having this argument every weekend, etc and so on. There were loads of more texts flying back and forth whilst myself and Mammy2 hid in the kitchen, pretending to unpack the shopping. We knew we
had to come out eventually, so we bided our time until she looked a bit tired from ranting. More txts later, she was heading to Kill to hang with him and wanted a bus fare. I would love to have seen the messages she was sending him. Or as I said to Mammy2, when he couldn't pick up his guitar and kept getting stabbing pains in his hand, he knew he had to do something. Whilst I didn't notice a voodoo doll anywhere, you never can tell with her. She gots lots of hugs and snuggles from Mammy2 and as per usual I made tea. Hey, its what I do, right. And it helps, or so she tells me.

Mammy2 hit the bed, I could hear her running down the hallway and I was left with the kid and her asking me every 5 minutes if I was finished with the PC. Myspace NEEDed her apparently. She's hooked on that thing, and I just don't see the attraction. I finished my work, nothing was working anyway and I was getting more annoyed with the server. At around 12.30, there's a tap on the door. No, its not my ovaries, but marks for paying attention. Did I not tell you I got a postcard from them? The Riveria is where they are currently living it up. Bitches. Anyways, the kid. She said that she wasn't going down to Kill, the boyf had 'found money'.

This statement brought a mental image to mind, of the local post office being held up by a gangly youth with floppy hair and guitar strapped to his back. Now they are hanging at the apartment and we are watching over them. She mentioned that the reason he didn't stay over much as because he didn't feel comfortable here. I told her to tell him that the shotgun wasn't loaded and the odd time it is, its just blanks so its nothing to worry about. Its Friday and she's seeing her man so she was a happy camper this morning. And wanted Jam sandwiches for lunch. This brought me back years, I lived on a stable diet of jam sandwiches from national school right through to secondary school. They are yummy.

This weekend as well as mothers day, which I am studiously ignoring, is the 7 year anniversary of our first date. Seven years ago , we went to Luigis for a bite to eat, then onto Shooters for a pint and a chat and we were supposed to go see some Mel Gibson film but ended up chatting and having a few drinks. I still get a smile on my face. We ended the night with a hug cause I had no clue what women who have dates with other women do on first dates. I was a mere baby dyke.