If you hurt somebody, find somewhere else to spend the night.
Somebody hurt somebody tonight. Okay, the somebody who GOT hurt was me – my arm got totally scratched and scraped up in an altercation over a frustrating not-working-well computer and a teenaged somebody who had had much, much too much computer time and kept insisting it would only take “one more second.”
Somebody is spending the night at Bubby’s house.
I am grateful my mother only lives a block away, because I like the fact that this one rule is utterly non-negotiable.
I like the fact that it’s ONE night and not forever. I like the fact that the teenager in question ran out screaming and then came back to nicely kiss me goodnight. The child will have peace and quiet at Bubby’s house and come back hopefully in a less screamy, more reasonable frame of mind tomorrow.
None of which stops me from feeling INSANELY guilty. Which I will, insanely enough, cure with something creamy and icy and chocolatey.
Sometimes, there’s nachas, but sometimes, I just feel like I’ve been suckered into moving in with the worst roommates in the world.