The Dog Ate My Homework, Or Something Lame Like That

Having slept the sleep of the dead, I awaken refreshed and renewed with a new attitude. 

I check my phone. No messages. Of any kind. Anywhere. Good news!

I put my feet on the floor and begin my day. Hog the bathroom for a bit while the teenagers are still snoozing.

And as I brush my teeth I think I hear the familiar ding of my iPhone.

Oh no. A message.

Maybe not. I turn off the water so I can hear if there is the customary second reminder ding.

And there it is.

Toothbrush dangling from my mouth, I dry my hands and race to the bedroom.  I click my little screen to life and see that I do indeed have a reply to my blistering, weapons-grade message from the night before.

"I will do as you say, but first let me say that whatever you heard that I did, I didn't do it."

An idiot texts what???

I nearly laugh out loud. I know 5 year olds that would have produced a more clever reply. Made a more compelling argument. Told a more convincing tale. She can't possibly think that a blank check denial of wrong doing is actually going to "make it all better," could she?  When did she decide I was stupid? 

As a rule, I never forward anything, but since I'd kept Charlotte abreast of this completely bizarre and unanticipated little social crisis, I feel compelled to at least copy and paste the two messages to her in a separate text.  Her reply is simple.

"Brava!  Good for you Are you going to reply to that insipid message?"

"No," I write back. "I told her I did not want to hear from her so I really shouldn't engage, even though I am dying to tell her exactly what I have learned and call her on exactly what she is doing that she thinks no one knows. I will refrain. Let her twist herself into a pretzel trying to figure it all out. Make her sweat. She deserves a wee little taste of Hell for this."

And I return to the bathroom to finish brushing my teeth and have the first morning completely free of drama in a long time.  It will be nice to live my Facebook life without interference.

Or so I think.