Wow, so much has happened.
First, and personally biggest, I brought Evan to pot college, so now I am Evanless in the house. He is good at texting me right back,at least so far. At the last minute Matt wondered out loud if he could join us on the trip since I had a two day parent orientation to go to and he did come, which was super nice for me. As much as I think I am a solitary person who wants to be alone, it is not at all who I am. I want short bursts of solitude in which to get my creative on followed by good loving company which respects my work triangle in the kitchen and does not interfere with dinner preparation. I'll let you know when/if I find that company. Apparently I am a magnet when preparing dinner and people feel the need to either just stand close enough that I can not stir a pot or suffer a sudden case of deep thirst which can only be quenched from the water of the sink I am currently washing dishes in. Why?
On the last night before we moved Evan into pot college's dorms Evan told me over dinner at the restaurant hotel that his new town friend who had undergone chemo for leukemia his freshman year in HS had just been diagnosed with another form of cancer. I just wept for the poor kid and his mom. I can not even imagine. I bumped into that mom today and offered any kind of help I could, including my bone marrow. Counting my blessings over here. To say that I am grateful to have healthy children doesn't even come close to how I feel.
I have to change topics so I don't cry all over the key board now.
On our last night in the hotel Matt and I went down to the hotel pool for a little swim. We got into the elevator afterwards with a woman who looked like she was dressed as a camper in a play, because she was clean and pressed but wearing all the camping clothes, a downright unattractive older dude and the young prostitute he was very obviously bringing up to his hotel room. I wanted to yell "Have fun grandpa!" when the older dude and the hooker got out of the elevator except I was totally speechless because he was just that gross and at least 40 years older than she was and ick ick ick. As soon as the elevator doors closed the camper said "What was that?" and I said I didn't know but if there was any chance she wasn't a prostitute she could really use a personal shopper for some fashion advice. Hilarious, right? I thought so.
And, while we are on the topic of hilarious, I will share with you the story of my big mouth. Last night, thinking I was alone in the family room with the husband I said "I'm not really that sad that Matt and his girlfriend broke up, but there was a part of me hoping that she would get knocked up." He asked if I was ready to be a grandmother and I kind of shrugged and then a few minutes later the husband seemed to laugh in the voice of Matt and it was only then that I had realized that Matt had been quietly sitting in the corner gazing at his lap top and hearing my little secret admission. Ooops.
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