Life, summed up by four scraps of paper
My life - actually, my husband's and my life - as of late can be summed up by four scraps of paper. They're hastily scribbled names and numbers of Olivia's new friends on torn bits of whatever was handy.
Sometimes the parents wrote the information. Sometimes the kid wrote it. Sometimes Claus had to revise it with his own clarification of what was written, or who this person is.
I was (finally) cleaning off my section of the table that we have ended up dumping all our junk on. I used to be tidy, but in the last months of anchoring the morning show, I gave up. I was too tired to care.
Now I'm getting around to restoring order and I find these notes. They were collected in haste to invite to Olivia's birthday party.
I'm Virgo-organized and I normally would have immediately transcribed this contact information into my phone's address book, but this was Claus' doing. Other than not being Virgo-organized, bless his heart, he was essentially single-fathering it for the first half of 2016 while I sat catatonic on the sofa after work (or after quitting work.)
I laughed out loud when I discovered how he did it. You will never find little crumpled up snippets of paper in my purse. This man cracks me up. After it was written, he stuffed it in his pocket where it got bent and disheveled, possibly even laundered.
But he did it, the friends came to the party, and I appreciate his work. Our differences of style just amuse me.
Claus happened by as I was snickering at the notes. "We can throw those away now," he said, explaining what they were. He knew I'd never seen it before and he thought I was deciphering the scrawl.
Wait, I said. I wanted a photo first.
A photo? For what? he asked.
"Because I want to remember that this is who we were for the first half of this year," I laughed. "Torn, disheveled, disorganized, used up, barely making it."
He laughed too. Then we gladly threw the papers away.