I didn't see much of my son this past week. He was up and out before me and I was in and down by the time he returned. The only evidence that he'd been in at all were the chicken carcasses and pizza boxes.
Sunday we played catch-up.
On our walk to the grocery store, a rare treat for me, (jeez he walks fast) he talked about his day job and all the changes that are afoot. He's about to change assignments and well, I don't remember all the particulars but he's excited about the prospect.
In the fruits and veggies section he talked about his substitute teaching gig. The great fun, anxiousness to do it again and being overjoyed about having received the payment as promised filled the time while I was picking over bananas.
While waiting for hot wings and potato salad from the deli section, he told me all about how promising the "Othello" project seemed and how disappointed he was when it fell through. "They were really disorganized, but they said they'd pay me anyway."
Between the meats and dairy is where I learned all about the past week as an under-study to 2 actors in one play, representing 4 roles. "There is a real possibility I might go on for at least one of them soon."
There was the whack house party on Saturday. We were at the check-out by this time. He went on to say how he hates house parties and he's going to stop going, no matter how much his friends urge. "I only went because Matt asked and because the apartment is in the neighborhood where I'll be looking for an apartment." During the walk home he reveals that he will start looking for an apartment in two weeks.
My son was loading his plate with hot wings and potato salad when he told me about the small, tight grocery store near where he works. How much he doesn't like the neighborhood and why he won't look for an apartment in the area. "Mom, the girls, from the college I think, fill their shopping baskets with Spam, vodka and nothing else."
He goes into his room to eat the mounds of food, watch (probably) a Fraiser dvd and then to nap a bit before he has to leave for the show.
Two weeks. He's going to start looking for an apartment in two weeks?
Your baby bird leaving the nest.
ReplyDeleteIt's bittersweet, isn't it?
2 weeks!? Breathe mama, breathe! And please remind me to do the same in about a year please?
ReplyDeleteoxo
You can start a yarn room!!
ReplyDeleteCrikey! Two weeks?!
ReplyDeleteHow far away is this neighborhood he's moving to?
ReplyDeleteI don't know why but I felt pulled back here to admit that I like to eat blackened Spam and mustard...
ReplyDeletedo with it what you will....
My middle child pointed out my oldest child is nearly 17. My youngest child, my oldest child and myself all stared at each other and gulped. Me, because it just dawned on me he's nearly old enough to fly free and for them, it reminded them they haven't got much longer before they have to pick up their own socks. He'll be fine mama, you raised him right.
ReplyDelete