A Message from the Universe

Sometimes the Universe just steps in and takes control.

Last weekend I headed into the mountains for a conference for women in business.  Oh joy!  A chance to abandon all motherly duties and just get away from them all … er, I mean from it all.

The morning of my departure my cellphone died, resisting many and varied attempts at resuscitation.  Oh, dear, I thought – how will anyone contact me when they want to know where the remote is or whether they can have $2 for 7/11 (the fact that I am clearly not home never seems to dampen their faith that I can navigate them, sight unseen, towards any random object – and telepathically materialize money).

Must be the universe, I thought, telling me to just leave it all behind and enjoy a quiet, peaceful weekend free from texts and voicemail.

Actually it was odd not to be able to direct reminders and instructions as I thought of them.  I wondered, for instance, whether the youngest would get to trampoline and tumbling on Sunday.  They’re not morons, I told myself and dismissed the concern.

Still, the isolation was blissful and the company invigorating.  Oh, to spend the weekend in the company of adults talking, not about offspring, but about our businesses and grown-up lives.  Yes, wine, women and even song!

I even got slightly excited about upgrading my aging Blackberry and adding some of this decade’s features.

When I got home I plugged it in to demonstrate its tragic demise.  Cooperatively, it lay dim and lifeless for about 2 hours, but then, like Doctor Who regenerating, it miraculously sprang back to life.

It would seem that, back  home, I must now resign myself to once again being the go-to girl for all things ridiculous.  And that’s okay, because it was actually quite nice to be back.

And, by the way, my son didn’t get to trampoline and tumbling because he slept in, and apparently my husband doesn’t know he has it.

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