You have a dynamic request to approve from @MandalaEffect: Play partner
I smirked. One day, I’d get him to change that to degradee or slut or something more telling. But for now, sure, he could list himself as my play partner.
That was it, though. I could scroll for another hour, it felt like. Likes and comments had poured in. Didn’t they have fucking jobs?
I closed the app and glanced out the window toward the sports bar where I was meeting up with Theo for lunch. He wasn’t there yet, and I could track him on our location-sharing app too. Let’s see… Okay, he was about five minutes away.
My messages came next, and I bypassed the birthday wishes from friends and family for now. I wanted to sit down when I had time so I could respond to them all—later.
Nate’s text came first.
I think you just started a wildfire with those dynamic updates, sweetheart. Miss you. Can’t wait to see you tonight.
Let the community talk. Although, I couldn’t say I’d expected that many alerts. Christ.
I checked Jordan’s reply next.
You make me so happy. That’s all I had to say. (And yes! We will be there tomorrow at seven pmon the dot!) Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday!
How the fuck had I gotten this lucky?
As I was the Birthday Boy Supreme, I let my crew off forty minutes early today. That way, I beat the worst of the traffic on my way back to the office, and I had time for a quick workout in our little gym before Dylan was due.
My hair was still damp when I stepped outside into the late-afternoon sun.
Felt damn good that summer was on its way. Spring was great and all, but I tended to get static shocks from fucking everything. Once the humidity rose again, things were better.
I had no proof, but I was 100% sure that Virginia was the worst state in the US for those shocks. Every goddamn spring.
After picking up the previously discarded air freshener, I sat down at one of the picnic tables and chilled for a moment while I waited for my boy. Dylan took every opportunity to get behind the wheel.
I yawned and stretched out my legs, and I leaned back against the table.
My new ball cap ended up on the table so my hair could dry.
My phone buzzed with a message from Nathan.
Micah tried a new vegetable in school today. Can you ask him about it when you come home? Given Lily’s recent obsession with grapes, I worry we’re essentially keeping him surrounded by foods that aren’t great for him. You know what I mean. It’s possible I’m overreacting.
He wasn’t. I got it. Having grown up overweight and drawn to sugary foods, I thought it was important we gently steered Mikey toward healthier options and created habits that helped him. The difference between him and me was that I’d still loved sports at his age.
Mikey’s situation was far from bad, but it could so easily escalate. Between gaming and, now, learning to play chess, he didn’t move around a whole lot.
I replied.
You’re not overreacting, baby. I’ll ask him about it. I have an idea for exercise too. You remember what my pop did when I refused to learn to ride a bike?
Most kids learned to ride their bikes at around four, five, six…maybe seven? I’d had my damn training wheels until I was almost nine. I’d thought two wheels were stupid.
So my old man had told me, “Let’s do it together. We’ll ride our bikes for half an hour every day, and when you grow to love it, we’ll take a trip, you and me.”
I firmly believed bribing your kids every now and then was solid parenting.
Two years later, my dad had taken me to an away game in Dallas.
Nate answered.
That’s a lovely idea. I’ll make more of an effort to bring him to the pool too.
