When They Grow Up

After a much needed week of vacation (interrupted, of course, by the need to evacuate for Hurricane Irene), I feel the urge to continue my “break” and talk not about business for this post, but about CollegeBoy.

Frequent followers know of whom I speak.  My just-about-to-start-senior-year-of-college son spent the last year in China, studying and working. Three weeks before the new semester was to start in Boston, he returned home to mom and dad in NYC.  And during that time, he:

  • Did not leave his pants by the front door. Seriously, that’s where I used to find his pants. This time, they remained on his body. Wonders never cease.
  • Cooked for all of us. Regularly.  And always healthy food. TASTY healthy food.
  • Sometimes slept in his own room, instead of on the couch in the living room where he could fall asleep after watching TV until 3 a.m. I said sometimes. (Yes, we managed for all these years NOT to have a TV in his room.)
  • Actually brought his dirty dishes into the kitchen. Didn’t wash them, of course, or even put them into the dishwasher (who are we kidding), but, MOST of the time, they actually made it into the right room instead of being scattered throughout every other room of the house. I was stunned.
  • Hugged me a lot. Great big luscious hugs,  which he initiated (i.e., I did not run around the apartment after him with my arms wide open after not seeing him for all that time, I swear). BEST, BEST feeling in the whole wide world.

The moral of this story? They’re still your kids, even when they’re grown up. And they do grow up/become more mature/become more responsible, as unlikely as that may ever seem when they’re younger. And you always, always and forever, love them to bits.

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