I feel kind of bad for my teen daughter this afternoon. She was with me Thurs-Monday this week and today being Wednesday she’s at her Mom’s place. Problem is, she wants to go to the gym for a workout — which is great! — but her gym bag is here at my place.
No worries, her Mom can bring her over and she can pick up the bag, right?
On the phone, she assured me that wasn’t a possibility because both Mom and her fiancee were busy. Could I drive into town and drop it off instead? Plleeeaasssee?
I couldn’t. I’m preparing for a trip next week and am trying to work ahead with some writing. Driving the gym bag to her Mom’s house then coming back to my place would take at least half an hour of my day. So no go.
A very disheartened daughter hung up the phone and, I presume, wasn’t able to go to the gym.
But I feel like it’s just an inevitable consequence of the two houses that the children bounce between. Certainly I’m used to having to pop by Mom’s house every day or two for something that one or another of the children have forgotten, and it does seem to go both ways, though since her place is their childhood home and mine is the new place, it seems they have more stuff at her place than mine.
We’re getting better at it, but still, over four years after we moved from a single house to two houses, it’s a drag that the kids keep hitting the sharp edge of their new world.