Twinkle: Major Disaster Averted

So we're up here in quaint Connecticut (I love it here) and things are going well despite the obvious annoyances with the extended in-law family. They love running everyone's life, from dictating accommodation arrangements to how Mr. Twinkle, Twinklette, and I will get into Manhattan tomorrow morning, to telling Mr. Twinkle which bathroom he should use at any given moment. Yes, they are in rare form, and MIL is in her element since she loves nothing more than to order everyone around.

But I'm not here about that.

So we flew into Hartford today, and there's a bit of a drive from Hartford to Weston (an hour, give or take). Twinklette and I were relegated to the back of a ginormous rented Chrysler Town and Country (which FIL drives like a madman), and Twinklette immediately fell asleep. So I texted my mom to let her know we were there, then I proceeded to sext Mr. Twinkle (who was tired from the journey and having none of it...which made it all the more outlandish) for the remainder of the car ride. I consider sexting a bit adolescent and it's not something I've ever done before...it was just something sort of fun to do to pass the time. The sexting was really more of a joke than anything, and eventually turned into a provocative means of goading Mr. Twinkle.

Well, imagine my surprise when I got to the hotel tonight, fired up the MacBook, and noticed that the text message I'd sent to my mother was posted for all of Facebook to see. And it's a good d*mn thing I didn't post what I was really thinking at the time..."MIL won't stop b*tching about all the peanut butter and crackers FIL ate on the plane"..."MIL's mother bit the dust at the terminal, went flying through the air, and drama ensued," (she's OK), "About to self-medicate with Xanax and check out for the next 5 days..." It could have been bad.

But then, in a flash of panic, I remembered the sexts and my heart sank about what I might have mistakenly posted for my FaceBook status...such gems as...

"What's that bulging in your pocket?"

"You're too tired for sexting now...I'm too tired for sex later."

"Oh yeah...screw the TSA. I'm totally going to hijack your cockpit."

"Whatever. You haven't wanted to sext from the beginning and now you're trying to blame Janet Napolitano."

Or, worst of all, the picture of my boobs I discreetly took and sent him.

Anyway, none of it was on there...but it could have been bad. I mean, can you imagine? My Daddy's on there. And so are friends, parents' friends, college professors, former work colleagues, cousins, Lola's and Dibbs' moms, Dibbs' nephews, the inner city kid I tutored at a charter school...it could have been so very bad.

But it wasn't...cheers to dodging a major bullet!