The Hot Mess and the Heartthrob(38)



“Ouch.”

“Yep.”

“Internet problems?”

“Software or server problems.”

“I know a guy if you need help.”

I laugh. “I suspect you know all the guys.”

“All the women too.”

“We should be fixed by morning, but I’ll keep you in mind if I need more help.”

Piper shrieks, and Zoe yells, “Put the squirrel down!”, and Hudson moos like a cow, and I cringe.

I think the insulation is good in the ceiling, but some days I wonder if I need to send the upstairs neighbor a fruit basket.

“Was that your kids?” Levi asks.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Skippy troubles?”

“I’m about to open the door and start yelling, and I don’t want you to hear that, so I’m hanging up now.”

“Text me later.”

He doesn’t ask if he can do anything to help, but the minute I open my door, he drops off my list of top ten things I’m thinking about.

But only because I suddenly have a dozen domestic issues to sort out immediately, starting with a squirrel who wants to take a bath with my mooing son.

That’s just how it goes.





Thirteen





From the texts of Levi and Ingrid





Levi: Are you up?

Ingrid: Unfortunately. Piper talks in her sleep and Zoe answers. I’m lying in bed at 4 AM listening to a one-sided debate over whether hockey pucks or eyeglasses will be a better tool to feed the conquistadors.

Levi: Is that how you wake up every morning?

Ingrid: No. Sometimes I wake up to wet willies and sometimes I wake up to Hudson just standing next to my bed staring at me like he’s a zombie. And very occasionally I wake up naturally when my body has had enough rest and it’s time to get going for the day.

Levi: How often does that happen?

Ingrid: I can’t remember, but I’ll let you know if it happens again. What time is it where you are?

Levi: Trouble time.

Ingrid: As in you’re causing trouble, or you’re avoiding trouble?

Levi: I need someone with good taste to stop me from doing something my brother would regret. selfie of himself holding a two-foot-tall squeaking rubber chicken

Ingrid: What IS that?

Levi: My nephew’s Christmas present. If you squeeze it hard enough, it’ll squawk for almost a full minute.

Ingrid: Put. Down. The. Rubber. Chicken.

Levi: Full disclosure. I already bought it.

Ingrid: I’m breathing deeply through my nose and assuming you bought it so no one else could buy it to gift it to anyone else’s kids, and that you’re going to use it yourself in YouTube videos where you and the chicken have a sing-off and then set it on fire as a warning to all other rubber chickens who would dare squawk for a full minute. And yes, that does mean I’m ignoring that little note you sent above about getting it for your nephew. I’m creating my own reality here where I can still talk to you.

Levi: That’s a really good idea about the YouTube videos. A little off-brand on the setting it on fire part though.

Ingrid: And it’s at 4 AM, before coffee. Imagine what I could come up with if you had the full power of mom-brain working for you.

Levi: I don’t think I’ve ever fully appreciated the power of mom-brain.

Ingrid: It often disguises itself behind crazy hair, wild looks in our eyes, and both hands full of caffeine at any given hour of the day.

Levi: You’re in camouflage. mind blown emoji

Ingrid: I’ve been in real camouflage before. This doesn’t feel quite the same. This is less warrior and more total mess. Army Years Ingrid is horrified at Mom Years Ingrid.

Levi: I think you look hot in that mess.

Ingrid: laughing emoji

Levi: Totally serious. Competence is sexy.

Ingrid: Are you still holding a large rubber squeaky chicken?

Levi: Yep.

Ingrid: Huh. For once, I have absolute confidence that I truly am the more attractive of the two of us at this moment.

Levi: So I should keep holding the chicken?

Ingrid: Only until it makes me throw up in my mouth. Then you’ve gone so anti-attractive that I won’t want to keep talking to you.

Levi: What if I pick up a screaming goat then? Goats are cuter than chickens.

Ingrid: I love the screaming goat! We did a reading marathon with book club last month, and everyone who read their twenty-six-point-two minutes a day won a medal, and everyone who told me their kids interrupted them every single farking time they tried to read or listen to an audiobook won a screaming goat. GREAT for stress relief.

Levi: I did not see that coming. gif of himself with his jaw dropping and the words PLOT TWIST flashing at the bottom

Ingrid: I keep one hidden in a drawer behind the register and pull it out and let my goat scream for me when I’m having a super rough day.

Levi: gif of Waverly Sweet doing a mic drop

Ingrid: Are you always this giffy, or are you loopy because your body doesn’t know what time it is?

Levi: Yes to both. I don’t know how long I’ve been in Melbourne, but I know I have no idea if it’s close to lunchtime or bedtime. Am I keeping you up when you could’ve gone back to sleep?

Ingrid: Nope. Brain had already engaged. I forgot to call the insurance company with a question about open enrollment yesterday, and then I realized it’s time to sign Zoe and Hudson up for soccer in the spring, but I didn’t write it on my calendar to do it because Piper got a bloody nose as I was checking email. Sort of like I meant to delete that email with all the gibberish at the bottom that I accidentally sent to you when I chewed you out about the yodeling pickle, but the girls were arguing over something while I was writing it, then Hudson snuck into my bedroom and played on my keyboard while I was keeping his sisters from throwing food at each other.

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