I am the Crap Fairy.
Sunday I convinced my oldest friend to hike the Billy Goat Trail. I had done the hike earlier in the summer and it was lovely. Since we usually do some type of hike a couple of times a month, I pitched it as a special treat for her birthday.
Who knew I was proposing the day from hell?
First off, the toilet paper roll holder attacked her during the pre-walk pee. Cue blood and oozing finger.
Then we embarked on the actual hike, which is strenuous. I’ve known this person for 45 years. How did I not know that she was squicked by heights? The whole damn hike is climbing along cliffs near the Potomac River.
She had such a hard time with the heights and the difficulty of the route that we had to take the emergency exit from the trail. Happy Birthday. I wasn’t trying to kill you but I suck.
After giving my oldest and dearest friend a miserable Sunday, I hit the gym Monday morning and bumped into a woman I knew in college. We haven’t seen each other for at least a decade and were delighted to run into each other. We sat down for a catch-up chat.
Within minutes she brought up her college boyfriend. He and my bad boy lover had been best friends, back in the olden days.
“We should take a day,” she said, “and go visit him.”
I must have flinched.
‘What?’ she said.
My brain was doing the hamster dance because he DIED a year ago.
What is the etiquette for telling an old acquaintance that her once true love was gone while sitting in a gym lobby waving occasionally at buddies walking by?
Yeah, I didn’t know either. I just told her the truth as simply and gently as possible. It was awful for her. She left immediately. I watched her walk across the parking lot crying. Yeesh.
So early this morning, the phone rings. A good friend is hysterical. Can I come over? I got right in the car.
She was standing in her driveway crying. Her husband, who had left them 6 months ago, had just sent her an email saying it was time for a divorce.
Needless to say, she hadn’t been stoic for the children. Inside the house, her boys (6 & 11) were sobbing. School was not an option. It was time for triage.
“In honor of this craptastic day,” I told them, “you guys are staying home from school and watching Eight Legged Freaks, which is the cheesiest horror movie ever. What do you want for breakfast?”
It took a while, but I got them calmed down, fed and planted in front of the tv. I went back outside and spent the next 70 minutes listening to the sound of a heart breaking. Then I made everyone lunch.
I have never been so far out of my depth.