Why did my boys think I’d want a souvenir from a trip they took with my ex and his new wife?
ONE DAY RECENTLY I GOT home from a long but satisfying day teaching seventh-grade English. I was ready to relax. Listening to my sons practicing guitar, I went to my room to change out of my work clothes. That’s when I saw it on my bathroom vanity, in the exact same spot where it briefly once sat. A miniature corked souvenir bottle of white sand and seashells on a wooden stand with the words Cozumel Mexico printed on it.
I did a double take. Where did that come from? I didn’t even remember where I’d stashed it. But I must have done it pretty well because I hadn’t seen it in three years.
Three years seemed like so long ago. That spring break, my nine-year old twins, Brennan and Breckan, had gone on a cruise with their dad—my ex-husband—and his new wife. Of all the 2,500 weeks or so of my life, that had been one of the worst.
My school had been on break too. I should’ve been enjoying my time off. Instead, I spent most of it obsessing over what my boys were doing and whether they were having fun with you-know-who.
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