My son received his cap and gown today. He called me at work and said, "Ma! Guess what I'm holding in my hands right now?" He was so excited. He still hasn't tried it on yet. Maybe he's not that excited.
He's behind me right now wearing a XXL jersey and a pair of socks. It looks like a dress. He's playing Dan.ce Dan.ce Rev.olu.tion, eating oatmeal cookies and texting. "Watch me, Ma! Watch me!" he says.
When I got home from work he was waiting for me to watch Clo.ver.fie.ld with him. I made some stroganoff and joined him in the living room to watch the movie.
"What would you say if I told you that I missed (his ex-girlfriend)?" "I would say that I understand but you'll get over it. She drove you crazy." His slight grin is hiding what he is really feeling. Still dancing. Still texting.
He's going to be 18 in less than three months. I had moved out by the time I was 18 and I never recall spending any quality time with my mother. Times certainly are different. And I realize that Tuesdays like today are the reason why I get so sad when I think about him moving out. When I think about him graduating. When he leaves the house in the morning and doesn't return until after I've gone to bed.