Z stayed downstairs and had a quesadilla when I went to bed last night. He came upstairs 20 minutes later. I was still up, reading in bed.
Me, “Do you know how I know I’m really anxious?”
Me, “I’ve decided that you left the stove on after making your quesadilla.”
Z, “Huh. I didn’t leave the stove on.”
Me, “I know.”
Me, “But I really think you left it on.”
Z, “Wow. It must take a lot of energy to be as crazy as you are.”
Me, “Dude. I said I knew it was the anxiety. I am acknowledging it is the anxiety. I know deep down that you didn’t leave the stove on. I’m just upset that you left the stove on.”
Z, “If you are so upset about it you can go down and check.”
Me, “Well, since you are the one that left it on I really think you should go check.”
Z, “I cannot handle how insane you are.”
Me, “I cannot handle how you left the stove on.”
He read for a while and I read for a while.
Z, “I forgot to put the whites in the dryer.”
Me, “Oh….that probably shouldn’t wait until the morning.”
Z, “I know. I’m going down.”
Me, “Will you just pop your head around the corner in the kitchen and check that the stove is off?”
T had a stomach bug on Halloween and he missed the parade at school.
This captures exactly who C is right now.