stupid weekend

So Jon slept over last night. It’s not the first time since March, but it’s the first time he stayed the whole night while all the kids were actually here in the apartment. Waking up and having him in the kitchen making coffee this morning was a trip. The 22-year-old walked in, stopped dead in her tracks, raised her eyebrows, and just slowly backed out of the room. I wanted to die of embarrassment. I am entirely too old to feel like a teenager sneaking a boy into my room, but that’s exactly what it felt like. We’re going to have to sit down and have a real talk with the kids about what’s going on with us eventually, but I’m dreading it. The boys are oblivious, thankfully. Well, the 9-year-old is. The 14-year-old probably knows but doesn’t care. Anyway, it was a good weekend. We stayed in, ordered a ridiculous amount of food, and just existed in the same space. It feels safe. It feels nice.