Peaceful Coexistence

Grooving to the jams of "The Grateful Dead" sitting at the kitchen table pondering the words I will bring to Bar Church tomorrow, Cassidy --- the ten year old --- snuggles with her mother napping on the sofa and turns on the Disney Channel.

Disney and The Grateful Dead cannot peacefully coexist.

Neither can a mother's nap if her child wants her to "gimmie, gimmie good lovin'" which is what the Dead are jamming on.

Sarah stumbles to the bathroom and back again claiming she just needed to close her eyes for a few moments ... which constitutes a nap in her world.

Naps are wonderful things to lavish yourself in as far as I'm concerned and two or three hours are minimum requirements.

Unless you're a mother.

Which I'm not.

I struggle to define my relationship with the girls ... other than to say they're my daughters because they are that ... every bit as much as their father, though I detest the whole "Step Dad" concept as though I'm stepping in for him when he's not around.

I do much more than stand in ... I step up ... around ... between ... into ... and amongst most everything they do.

Occasionally their Mom's actually happy of my involvement.

Like last night, Cassidy, the aforementioned 10 year old, likes a boy who's liked her forever but she never gave him the time of day so he got a new girl.

Now Cass likes him but doesn't know how to tell him.

So I got involved.

"I'll text him for you," I offer.

"You will?" she hopefully asks.

"Oh no," Sarah groans laying on the sofa watching a movie.

So I send a text which leads to a Face Time convo with the boy.

"Why you like her?" Cass demands. "I'm way prettier."

He says he has to go, promises to call her back and hangs up.

"He always does that," Cass explains, "and he never calls back."

So I send another text ... "Listen, I know you and you never actually call back when you say you are. I'm okay with that but it's weird."

He immediately calls her back.

I'm feeling pretty good about my contributions to her upbringing.

That was last night.

Now Sarah and Cass are snuggling on the sofa watching the Disney Channel which cannot peacefully coexist with the Grateful Dead, Bar Church sermons or me.

So I'm on the Beloved Back Deck where it's hotter than Hell and tomorrow's words for Bar Church will just have to wait until tomorrow.

On the up side, the Dead are sounding pretty good out here.

I wonder how Cass and the boy are doin?