The Boy returned last night from his first week of classes after christmas break – finding his mother in her boxers, drinking whiskey and wearing christmas lights around her neck. He was unphased…
I asked how things were going so far… and he said he’d been more sociable in the first few days of classes than he had been all last quarter, mentioning that an attractive young woman in one of his classes seemed keen to chat him up…
daisyfae: Did you tell her that you’re from out of town? Talk about your courses at the local college before you went there?
The Boy: No. I didn’t say much of anything. Chicks just want to talk. I just let ’em talk. I listen.
daisyfae: But you always come back at me with a smart-assed remark, always have to get in the last word…
The Boy: I meant “chicks i want to bone”.
daisyfae: […..]
Trailer Park Refugee 
[..blink. blink..]
UW – yep. i didn’t know whether to be proud or horrified… but at least he talks to me… [blink…]
be proud daisyfae. be very proud.
That kid caused you to split in two on his birthday, he better talk to you. My son however, well, I actually haven’t seen him since Christmas. I should probably go looking for him 🙂
UW – good point, but since he was a 10 1/2 pounder, i was mercifully drugged (with some reasonably good shit) and gutted. good luck finding your critter… sometimes when mine wanders off for a few days, i put a trail of biscuits and gravy on the walkway.
Don’t you just love seeing them grow up?
wanderer – grow up is one thing…. but turning into a man-whore?
Mmmm. Man whore.
bob – he’s 19. so. not. your. type. (grrrr…..)
haha bob.