I asked B if she would like to go out with me the next Friday night (our Saturday) that FaucetCompany doesn’t schedule us to work. We work most of them, so whoever she has watching the kids could be told that she is working, without arousing any suspicion.
Her response: Yes, but not this weekend. I miss my kids. I only see them a few hours every night, and most of that time is spent on homework, dinner, and showers.
Sounds reasonable, right? Until you think about it a little bit. She would be leaving as though she were going to work, which is within an hour of bedtime anyway. So unless she misses them so badly that she needs to watch them sleep, she wouldn’t be missing more than a few minutes of time with them. And I wouldn’t keep her up all night, so she’d get plenty of sleep to do whatever she wanted with them during the day on Saturday.
Then, there’s this. Last weekend, she took her niece to an adult haunted house for her fifteenth birthday. The kids were somewhere else. The weekend before that, she went out with her cousin and some friends for adult beverages after handing off the kids to someone else – around the kids’ bedtime. There are at least two other similar instances during the seven plus weeks that we’ve been sleeping together, but you get the idea.
In fact, she and I have never had a one-on-one date. We’ve had lots of sex. We’ve had breakfast prior to intimacy sessions several times. We had lunch together once. We almost had a date once. But Eldest Spawn called while we were having ice cream, before the movie. Daddy had was asleep and she couldn’t wake him up (he had passed out) and Youngest Spawn had hurt herself.
I pointed out the fact that going out with me would cost her minutes with her kids, at most, but she stuck to her decision. I miss my kids. I want to spend this weekend with them.
What am I missing? I don’t get it.
UPDATE: It doesn’t matter. I have to work anyway, even though my machine is not scheduled to run, giving B the weekend off.