Last week I drove down to my sisters house in Sydney. I had this in the back of my car:
The cot she let me borrow for the baby, back when the baby was still in my belly, before any cancer came to our house. It was exciting to give it back to her. I will never ever have a baby again. EVER. That thought would once make me so despondent; now it makes me want to dance a jig.
The jig is up. I will never be clucky again - fact. I love my boys so much. Bigger than anything. But thank goodness they will soon be bigger than anything.
I was riding solo and so was Leigh.. I had come to teach her my bachelor ways ...... I arrived at her beautiful house out in a leafy suburb with a picket fence and cute garden, ran up the path, peered in the window and saw her cute little face squinted at her computer. I bashed loudly and scared the shit out of her. "I'M HERE!!! WOOOOOHOOOOOOOO!!!"
Some people bring flowers. I brought these puppies.
Oh yeah baby. We were both starving for lunch so we jumped in my car and I let her drive and I was all like, "Mate where have I been for two years?? I am SO sorry!"
I have been an unwelcoming, uninviting hermit. With both my sisters. I have had too many kids in my house. It's the busiest I've ever been in my life and I don't handle busy well.
My twin sisters are both married with two children each - both had a girl first, then a boy. Both had their kids very close together, so they fully understand where I was coming from in the mental health department.
We went shopping and laughed heaps and ate burgers. I tried on a cute pastel polka dot sundress .... she was in the changing room next to me and asked how did it look?
"Great! All I need is a cow to milk."
I came out and showed her, I looked like a frickin' rainbow milk maid. We just laughed. This is why I stick to wearing black - I can't do cute. You can take the heroin and alcohol out of the junkie, but you're still left with a motherfucking badarse who can't wear frills.
She took me to Cronulla beach where we had a photo shoot:
Then we came back to her house. She sneezes like a pussy and told me it's bad feng shui to leave the toilet seat up. I made her watch the news at 6pm. I asked her what century are we in?
A good friend is somebody you can ask what century are we in, without being embarrassed. She laughed and told me it was the 21st.
We baked our meat with roast potatoes and simple salad. She had this bottle of salad dressing that was called "Glaze" ...... it tasted SO YUM. We called it "Julio InGLAZEious."
I saturated my salad with it. I drank it from the bottle. Later when she was uploading pics, critiquing each one, she turned to tell me something and saw me cutting the plastic GLAZE bottle open with my steak knife.
"I need it."
She let me have it. I licked it clean.
We talked and laughed til 11.30pm but then I had to go to bed because I had to get up early to come back and relieve Dave of childminding so that he could take his friends daughter in to jail for a visit to see her dad.
I picked this girl up on my way home .... she climbed into my car and told me how excited she was to see her daddy. "He's in jail, did you know that?" I said yes sweetheart, I did know that. I let her buzz open my sunroof and stare out of it in wonder. She asked me what would happen if it rains? I explained that the car would fill up with water and can she swim? Her eyes went wide. BUT WE'D DROWN.
We laughed together. For a second, I wondered what it would be like to have a daughter. I pulled the thought out, checking for any regret or wist.
Not any. Not one. No how. NEVER AGAIN.
Anyway, I just gave the cot back.
The next day, Leigh text me:
"I just made a tuna salad sandwich. But there's no GLAZE to put on it, THANKS."
Leigh you are SO welcome.