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nes back on and walked out of the room.
The twins had come home, finished their homework, then retreated to their separate bedrooms to do their thing before dinner. This typically meant Elena was on her tablet and Elin was sitting in his gaming chair, playing video games online while talking to his friends through Bluetooth.
After dinner the drill was family time, showers, then back to their lairs for a little private time before bed.
This worked for us, since we enjoyed being around each other, but really liked our private time too. It also meant minimal bickering between the twins, who were really close, but were still ten-year-old kids, which meant they got on each other’s nerves.
I finished up the potato salad and went to pull the burgers off the grill. It was homemade burger night, so there was a bacon cheddar burger for Elena, feta and spinach burger for me, and a plain hamburger with season salt for Elin. It was a night of family favorites, paired with the potato salad and grilled asparagus, and something we had at least every other week.
I grabbed the kids so we could sit at the table and eat as a family, which is what we did every night they were here. I may not be able to give them the things we had when I was married to their father, but I could give them a home-cooked meal and family time.
That’s what I’d had growing up, and I thought it was an important tradition to keep.
“Dad said we’re going camping this weekend.”
My fork clattered against my plate as I dropped it and asked, “Say what?”
“Camping,” Elena repeated.
“Your dad doesn’t go camping,” I explained. And he didn’t. He was the opposite of outdoorsy.
“Well, when I told him that Carl’s parents bought an RV and go camping all the time, and that I wanted to try it, he went out and bought one.” This was said by Elin.
“He bought an RV? What the hell?”
“Swear jar,” Elin shot out.
In an effort to get the kids not to swear, The Douche and I had introduced the swear jar. Anytime someone swore, they had to put a quarter in the jar, and every so often we’d cash it out and the kids would get to pick out a movie to buy, or we’d go out for ice cream. I’d put a lot of money in that jar since the divorce. Elin loved that damn thing.
“Mom, yeah, we’re going camping in Dad’s new RV.” This Elena said quietly.
I took a moment to look around the room, then gave myself a small pinch to make sure I was awake.
“You mentioned that one of your friends had an RV and you wanted to try it, so your dad went out and bought one?”
The twins were now watching me like they were afraid my head might explode, and they were right … it was about to.
That son of a bitch, I shouted in my head, while trying to keep my face blank for the kids’ sake. Throwing money around on stupid shit, shit I could never in a million years compete with…
“Mom?” Elin called tentatively. “Are you gonna blow a gasket?”
Deciding it was best to change the subject I asked, “Your friend’s name is Carl? Who names their kid Carl nowadays?”
“Uh, yeah, not everyone has weird names like us,” Elin said.
“Your names aren’t weird,” I argued.
“Yes, they are,” Elena put in.
“Are not.”
“I’ve never met another Elin in my whole life…”
“You’re ten, give it time,” was my response.
They shot me identical looks that screamed, “Whatever” then took bites of their burgers.
Sometimes it was a little freaky when they did things in sync like that, without even realizing it.
