We happened to be home Saturday afternoon around 2:15 (very odd for us, we're usually out running errands then but we got a very early start that day), when the doorbell rang.
DH said it was a girl asking for DS. Turned out it was his little "galpal" and her dad, asking if he could go fishing with them. Mind you, my son has never fished a day in his life. Has no clue what it involves. But it's a yes.
After a quick re-application of deoderant and a toothbrushing, he's out the door. Gone. With people I barely know to go fishing.
Around here people fish in what are called "playa lakes". Playa lakes are really just places the water runs off too after a storm, because our town has no real sewer system. (Because it doesn't rain. Hmm. But the playas are always pretty full). The city stocks many of the bigger playas with fish in the spring. It is bizarre.
An hour and a half later, right on time, DS is home, and overwhelmed with happiness from all the fun he's had. Doing things like cutting worms in half and sticking them on hooks. MY son??? No, they apparently returned the wrong child...... ROFL.
At dinner we were talking about his experiences (except the worm parts); and as it turns out his little girlfriend's dad is an undercover cop with Lubbock police. I said to my husband "and she seemed like such a nice girl too". Fortunately DS didn't get the joke.
He is growing up. Moving on. Without even giving me a "bye mom". Sheesh!
"shorter of breath, and one day closer to death" - Pink Floyd
“There is no such thing as 'on the way out' as long as you are still doing something interesting and good; you're in the business because you're breathing” Louis Armstrong