While I’m jump-up-and-down-slap-me-silly happy about it, I am also in shock. Shock. I swear school just ended last week. Didn’t we just start two-a-days two days ago? *and by we I mean the Wild Boy since he drives himself and all that now*
Speaking of driving and the Wild Boy. Ever since he and His Father decided that the Red Jeep, which I spotted on the lot; the one that I said to Brett’s Father, “yes! I’m positive that I want a Jeep to drive every day,” the one that had the Sueszoo license plates on it until one day I went out to get into it and the license plate read “2WRANGL” … that Red Jeep that suddenly has become The Wild Boy’s Red Jeep. Anyway, ever since the Wild Boy got that “the Red Jeep is mine” twinkle in his eye, he has been pestering His Father to “lift it.” It already has huge tires on it and I have to step on the running board and grab the hand thingy and pull myself in. Apparently when you are six feet twelve hundred like the Wild Boy, that just isn’t lifted enough. But I put my foot down. Hard. And stated emphatically that before any more gear arrived for any one’s vehicle, I was getting a new couch and the living room was going to be painted. Period.
The new lift kit was delivered yesterday.
No couch, or paint in sight.
I suppose I should be happy that I got a new iPhone a few weeks ago and, in fact, was reminded of this when I mentioned the couch. Men just Do. Not. Get. It. An iPhone and a couch and painting the living room are on two totally different planes of the universe. I mean, really.
Back to September, though, school starts on Tuesday. Junior year for the Wild Boy. PSAT, SAT prep, attempting to get some game footage of him together, college visits. It is going to fly by. I’ve been really weepy about it all. I have run into some football moms who look at me like I have three heads when I say how much I will miss all of this when the last one moves on to college. They can’t wait for their last one to move on out. I just don’t get that. Don’t get me wrong, I want them to go to college, and get on with it all, but I will miss the hustle and bustle, tripping over football gear (just as I miss tripping over baseball gear and volleyball gear and soccer gear), the extra 5 kids in the house at any given time eating all of our food, laughing and cutting up and calling me Mom. It is unthinkable to believe I will actually look forward to being an Empty Nester.
So I’ve decided I’m not going to do it. Sarah still lives here and goes to school and works. Shawn is moving back into the house come graduation this December. And the Wild Boy, my baby…he ain’t leaving. Period. I’m putting my foot down. Hard. And stating emphatically…