After we got home from Target, I checked my messages. I had a friend request for Facebook--the kid's father wanted to be my virtual friend.
We are a thoroughly modern split couple. Separated for four years (Valentine's Day 2005, if you want to know) we have no intention of getting back together. Through years of isolation, alienation, grief and some anger, we have now found some stasis, friendship, commitment to our children. The coup de foudre sparked by them underlies everything else, giving us a foundation even when we are driving each other mad.
As we did this week, when he went to visit his older son in Argentina, leaving me with a broken tailbone that makes it almost impossible to sit for very long. Driving home early Monday against doctors orders with Mr C asleep in the back, I was definitely not his friend.
But my Facebook friend? Yikes. What will he think of my friend list? Will he suspect I have (which I don't) a lover on there? Will he know half the folks on it? Somehow I doubt it.
We move in different circles socially. And yet I sent him (or I sent them, I'm not sure) a list of suggestions for Facebooks friends to get him launched. Because I'm still a bit pissed, I added a few people whose names he won't recognize.
Actually, I admire him for signing up. The old boy has spunk in him yet.
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