Whoever knows me knows I have a son who is in college. They also know I am a reluctant empty nester. I miss him. I like him. He’s fun to have around not to mention he helps me cut down errant tree branches and haul mulch throughout my garden.
Kit was home this weekend. He had dinner with us last night. He wanted a home-cooked meal so his dad made grilled pork chops, baked potatoes and corn for our hungry college kid. Within an hour he’d eaten, chatted and prepared to head out the door to meet up with his friends. He threatened us with the prospect that they might all come back to the house afterwards. To a college aged kid ‘afterwards’ means after 11:00 p.m. Of course we’d be fast asleep by then.
His plan for Saturday was interesting: use his dad’s excellent chili recipe to make enough chili to take back to the dorm so they could eat chili while they watched the Bears game, cut down two tree branches from lopsided snow crab (loves that chain-saw), use my car (not his gas) and spend time with his friends the rest of the day.
On Sunday he’d sleep till the last possible moment, get up and rush to get ready for church then leave for school right after so he could catch up with the friends he hadn’t seen since Friday! Somewhere in the itinerary I thought I heard ‘get in some studying’. Don’t think it’s my hearing—his otherwise clear speech disintegrates into mumbles after parental questions.
No matter; he’s home for two days. He brought home his laundry. What a son, he knows how to make my day. Hopeless aren’t I?