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When Multitasking Lands You In Therapy

This weekend Jane had a soccer tournament and Alexander had baseball. Mr G and I went with the divide and conquer parenting strategy. I went with Jane to Newhall and Mr G hung out with Alexander for picture day, a game and a few playdates inbetween.

When our foursome is split up we typically rely on texting quite a bit. While Jane was warming up I grabbed my iPhone and played catch up.

My father sent me a message asking where I was. Newhall, I told him. He texted me, Hot?

I moved over to texts from a girlfriend. It was so nice to see you, you look so good, I love your hair… you know the standard stuff. She texted me a question about my shorts, they are cute where did they come from?

I watched a little soccer and then there was a break in the game. I picked up the phone and started sending replies.

I replied to my father’s question about hot: Hot as hell and tacky as shit.

And then I replied to my girlfriend’s question about my shorts: Why thank you.

Except I sent them to the wrong peoople, so the text threads looked like this.

DAD: Hot?

ME: Why thank you.

FRIEND: I love your shorts.

ME: Hot as hell and tacky as shit.

I have tried, unsuccessfully to scrub this from my brain. So I figured I’d share my therapy moment with all of you.