Maybe It's Just Me......

Well, I was almost hoping for some freak-out, psycho outcome to the sleepover saga. Something that would confirm, without a doubt, that serious therapy should be implemented for at least one of the parties involved. But, in fact the whole process, from RSVP-ing, to drop-off and pick-up, were all quite normal. Eerily normal. Eyebrow-raising normal. Not normal for two people who haven't spoken in 9 months, but normal in a "Let's just sweep that animosity right under the rug, shall we" sort of way.

When I finally mustered up the courage to RSVP I used my icy, professional office voice and was met with a very enthusiastic "Helloooo, How are youuuuu, No, it's OK that you're RSVP-ing so late, no problem, Great, See you Saturday"

Hmm.

I could only stare at the phone in disbelief.

Surely drop-off would be weird.

"Helloooo Graham, how are you, welcome." followed by, for my benefit, a complete run-down of the next 24-hours of activity.

Well, just you watch out because tomorrow when I pick up my son, I'm definitely confronting you, just wait.

Pick up: "Ohhhh, they had SOoooo much fun, what a good boy. Graham won the first game of bowling, he's a really good bowler, you know." and then, here it comes, a heartfelt "Thanks SO much for letting Graham come, I'm really glad you let him and Billy was so excited that he could come"

Huh? Wha? LET him come? Could it be I'm the crazy one? Could this all be my imagination? My fault?

Well, thank goodness Graham left his pillow there because, for sure, I'll confront her when I go to pick that up. First, though, she'll need to follow the script that I have in my head.

Words to Live By: Stop making me think I'm psycho by acting so psycho.