Duplicity

I did something totally sneaky, duplicitous and behind the back.

No, I didn’t screw the mailman. Ours looks like Mayberry’s Floyd the Barber. A nice enough guy, but not my type.

OK, you know about Monsieur’s little heart flutter. Well, he will go in to the hospital on Tuesday for a transesophageal echocardiography (TEE) and then a radio frequency catheter ablation (Google links all, you sort it out) and his doctor says he’ll likely go home that day. Monsieur says he could easily handle getting a ride there and back all the way into South Austin Hospital. If he ends up staying the night, well, he’ll get a ride the next day or I and the boys could come pick him up later in the van, after school.

The hell he will.

I said someone could watch the kids while I run him in and back. He says it’s not necessary, as I’d have to find both a substitute for school plus a sitter; besides what if he ends up staying the night if the procedure runs long? Better for him to get a ride than have me tie up school, the kids, run the risk of getting stuck in Austin with him, etc.

The hell it is.

So, I went behind his back. I called J with 2 N’s and got her to take the class for the day. I told her what was going on and that I would make it up to her by taking her girls and my boys to the park or to the pool. J said forget about it, but she’d love to have us all over for a backyard barbecue picnic. I love J with 2 N’s.

Next mission – the possible overnight stay. I called the boys’ Grandfather, Maggie’s dad. I told him what was going on and that Monsieur said I should stay home while he went into South Austin Hospital for the day.

Grandfather’s exact words: “The hell you should. What’s he worried about, being a bother?”

“I think he’s worried about child care,” I explained. “It may run to an overnight stay.”

“I’m sorry, I like the guy but he’s a damn mule sometimes. Okay, Beautiful, [he always calls me Beautiful] here’s the plan.”

He would tell Monsieur that he’s visiting his friend in San Antonio the weekend before, and wants to visit with the boys on Tuesday and stay overnight, and leave the next day. He wouldn’t mention any hospital or anything to indicate that he knows what’s going on. Grandfather would be there, though, in case of the overnight stay, and is reasonably responsible enough to handle three boys for 48 hours if need be.

I laughed. “Sure you can handle Bigglest Boy?”

“Hell,” he snorted. “I raised Maggie; she was worse than ten boys and a wet wolverine. I’ll be fine. We’ll play musketeers and spaceships. Easy as pie.”

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Beautiful, the hardest part will be convincing their dad. You leave it to me. I’ll see you on Monday night. He won’t turn out their grandfather if I just show up.”

“You’re my hero,” I said. ‘I owe you one.”

“Oh, you hush,” he laughed. “I owe you seven ... thousand. Or more. Leave it to Grandfather. That’s what we’re for.”

I could cry.