BnB: The week did not go according to plan

Jun 21, 2025

It’s another edition of Bike and Blog! If anything, this little project is making me want to add tags to my blog so I can better link these posts together. Here’s the last one.

The bike, the shop, the order

Today’s a rainy day in Portland, so I’m on my Kona Dr. Dew, which is all set up for the rain and is a kick-ass bike in its own right.

My destination is Keeper Coffee. I chose it somewhat at random on Google Maps. I want to say it’s got a cool English pub vibe from the outside, but having been to the UK only once and briefly, I’m probably getting that wrong.

Keeper Coffee. Awkwardly framed as I try to avoid a truck bed.

A warm atmosphere on a rainy day. (I assume this is a poorly framed picture. I’m learning in public here, folks. Maybe someday I’ll get better at it. If you’re good at this stuff, I’d love to get any tips over email!)

I ordered a decaf Americano and a cardamom bun. I’m a sucker for cardamom.

The topic: the week did not go according to plan

In chronological order:

My daughter got a stomach flu last weekend. She was barfing all day. We had her signed up for an expensive summer camp this week, but she had to skip most of it and stay home.

I came down with what I assume was the same bug on Monday. I didn’t barf, but I had flu symptoms and slept basically all day. I’d blocked out half that day to write performance reviews for a looming deadline. Didn’t happen.

Thursday was Juneteenth, and my company gives us the day as a holiday. My wife is a schoolteacher and is off for the summer, so I assumed she’d want to hang out that day, but she happened to be booked up with her own stuff by the time I remembered to tell her. And the kids were in all-day summer camps.

This means I was on the verge of having the entire day to myself. This is a rare and prized occasion for a parent of young kids.

Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. My daughter took a turn for the worse and needed to stay home from camp that day. And since my wife was booked up, this meant that I got the privilege of sacrificing my precious me-day to be a caretaker.

No matter, I told myself, because I had something vastly more amazing in my pocket: an entire weekend alone starting two days later! Partially as a Father’s Day gift to me, and mostly because she wanted to, my wife was about to ditch the kids at grandma’s house two hours away and then go visit her friend near there. She was going to leave Friday night and come back either Monday night or Tuesday.

Let me tell you, as an introvert who feels endlessly busy with people stuff—marriage and parenthood at home, people management at work, keeping up friendships, trying to remember to give my mom some attention, etc.—I am perpetually suppressing a powerful, at times desperate thirst for solitude. And an entire day alone, let alone an entire weekend ... well, that happens maybe once a year. It’s a big flippin’ deal.

I’ve been daydreaming for months about what I might do this weekend. Spend all day on my bike, exploring the city, stopping here and there to try a pastry or a new restaurant or to write a blog post. Work with my hands in the garage, perhaps wrenching on my bike. Play with all manner of Obsidian thingies now that I’ve switched back to it. Read a book. Make a complicated recipe. Clean up my office. Watch a dude movie.

More importantly: do any or all or none of the above with no time pressure, no coordinating with other humans, no asking or explaining or justifying. Bliss, my friends.

Well you can guess what happens next. My daughter finally recovers and is her usual bubbly self once again. And then my son starts puking. The night before they’re supposed to leave.

Weekend alone: Poof. Gone. 💨

Three days of solo caretaker duty while my wife heads out, leaving my puking son with me: Voila. Revealed!¹ 🪄

I’m only medium-ashamed to admit that I almost cried.

My wife told me to go take this morning to myself as a consolation prize before she leaves, which is why I’m able to be out here writing this post. (And she booked me a massage that starts in 30 minutes. She’s a good one.)

I’ll do my best to try to be a good dad and enjoy some of this time with my son rather than wallow in my loss like a baby, which is the course of action that my manly instincts suggest.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, my wife's tires were slashed on Thursday.

The week did not go according to plan.

Update! I arrived home to find a note from my wife on the kitchen counter. She decided to take my son after all! She laid out my Father’s Day gifts once again (some of them were relevant to the weekend) and instructed me to have a wonderful time. I was overjoyed. She’s the best!