What? No. No no no. Not with Justin sick. PJs and a movie will cut it. He was supposed to come to my final dress fitting, but I'll just duck in myself and do it.
Our kid has a boyfriend perfectly capable of taking care of him, and lots of back-up to help. We're not missing your birthday. Wait, hang on. You can't do that. You can't cut him out, you promised you wouldn't.
I know, but just in case? It was a bad panic attack and he's crashed. Isn't it better we stick close to home just in case? It's not that important. An errand, really. He's struggling to get out of bed, honey.
This is one of those times we don't need to err on the side of caution. He has Sash and Ari's staying the next few days. Sammy's a couple of blocks away, his doctors can be reached on-call. This is a mother and son thing you need to do, love. It's important to him. He's already worried we're both going to pull out. If you cancel out on him, he won't put it down to a mere errand. And you've got to want him there with you, right? You invited him in the first place.
I really don't want to fuck this up. On either thing. I thought we could have some fun, that if he saw I was paying the final payment on the dress and taking it home, it might help all that. Mostly, I just wanted him there with me for the moment because he helped me choose it. I can't drag him out of bed for that, though.
This is the deal we made with him, babe. We give Sash the room to take care of him, but they both know we're here if they need us. That's what cell phones are for. Why not? You don't think he would try to make it? He's not dead or unconscious.
You're right. All it would do was make it look like we don't trust Sasha. I didn't think about it like that. I swear to god, this mom thing is something I'm destined to keep fucking up. I don't want to hurt him, I'm trying to protect him.
It might, and it might not. It's not necessary to make an issue out of it. He'd kick my arse if I didn't make sure we celebrated your birthday, and probably pay someone else to kick it too if we did it because of him. I know my kid well enough to know that. You're not fucking it up, love. You're just overthinking it. Any mum is protective of their kids, especially when they're sick. You both need this. You'll remember it forever.
He would too. He's a lot like you in that sense. Calls out basic bitches on their basic bitch shit. I'm worried with how quickly he crashes he might self-harming again. I guess I starting to fear the wedding was superficial in comparison to everything. But it's not superficial to me. It's the most right I've felt in ages.
Like father, like son. Gen, sweetheart, he's already been self-harming. He told me at the party. He caught himself doing it to break through the manic feeling. He doesn't want his meds messed with again and he was going to talk to Sash about it, and Nate cleaned and dressed the wounds when he did the home visit the next day. Jus doesn't want anyone else to know. We're always going to worry, but we can't sacrifice everything with meaning when things go wrong. We know they're going to go wrong. He's got this for life. He wouldn't have accepted your invite to the dress fitting if it wasn't important to him.
Shit. Where were the wounds? Okay, humour me, sexy. What were you planning for said birthday? Everything about this is important to him, isn't it? I thought maybe it was just me feeling like that, letting my heart rule my head and all that shit I once upon a time swore I'd never let myself do.
Well, I know there's something Bachelory planned for the weekend, so before I get my pubes shave off and my hand glued to my forehead or something, I booked us into the Spa Suite at the Mandarin Oriental. Birthday pampering and lots of nakedness. No, we're feeling that as a family. Talk to him, ask him if he wants to go to the fitting.
If anyone shaves your pubes before our wedding night, I'll force feed them their own dick with a rusty fork. I like my men au naturale. Are you fucking kidding me? You seriously did that? I knew there was a reason I was remarrying you. I'll talk to him, and confess I've been a basic bitch.
I'm with you on that, babe. I like my pubes attached, just like Paris. Will never forget his rant about pubes when the chemo kicked in. Of course I'm not fucking kidding. If I can't spoil my wife-to-be, who can I? That's the best way to go about basic bitchness with him. Kid's way too forgiving for his own good. It's his big heart.
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