I have neglected to mention a startling occurrence from a few weeks ago.
Sparky and I were walking out of Wal-Mart (hey, it's the only gig in town that sells lettuce, men's black dress pants, and Benadryl!) when a tallish, geeky-ish strawberry-blonde wearing glasses came running at us. Well, running at Sparky, really. She threw herself into his arms, squealing his name from ten feet away. "I miiiisssss you!!!" Mind you, school had been out of session for, perhaps, two days at this point.
What's a mom to do? Sparky looked at me apologetically over her shoulder and when she finally let him go he said, "Mom, this is [Dazy]." She barely glanced at me, may have mumbled "hi." So, not good with grown-ups. They chatted, I fidgeted a little, we eventually left. Sparky was clearly as uncomfortable with the situation as I was, and I pretty much let it drop.
Last Friday when I was waiting to pick him up at school after his driving practice, he rounded the corner of the high school with [Dazy] bouncing along beside him. She really does move a lot like Tigger. Anyway, she needed a ride home: she'd been driving (in a separate car from Sparky's) and apparently her folks had told her they couldn't come get her so she had been bumming for a ride.
So, we crammed into the cab of my pickup. She barely spoke to me, thus cementing my impression of 'not good with grown-ups.' It was weird though: I took her to the local flop-hotel, but I think her family manages it judging by the unit she told me to stop at. And once she was out of the car I quizzed Sparky a bit more. She has a boyfriend, she doesn't interest him 'that way'--"Mo-ommmm!"--she's in the anime club. I didn't go too far, because I had a sudden memory of my sister picking me up from college freshman year and commenting for what seemed like forever on a guy who had been there when she arrived, a guy friend. It was ... icky.
While I was in California over the weekend, I had to use Sparky's cell phone. As I was waiting at the gate at the airport, I got a text message: "I luv u" from [Dazy]. I just remembered. I guess I should tell him about it, only a week later.
Who says our subconscious doesn't rule things? I had rather forgotten about [Dazy] until I woke up this morning with the vision of short strawberry-blond hair and geeky glasses in my brain.
Oh, and
HAPPY FOURTH
of JULY!
Sparky and I were walking out of Wal-Mart (hey, it's the only gig in town that sells lettuce, men's black dress pants, and Benadryl!) when a tallish, geeky-ish strawberry-blonde wearing glasses came running at us. Well, running at Sparky, really. She threw herself into his arms, squealing his name from ten feet away. "I miiiisssss you!!!" Mind you, school had been out of session for, perhaps, two days at this point.
What's a mom to do? Sparky looked at me apologetically over her shoulder and when she finally let him go he said, "Mom, this is [Dazy]." She barely glanced at me, may have mumbled "hi." So, not good with grown-ups. They chatted, I fidgeted a little, we eventually left. Sparky was clearly as uncomfortable with the situation as I was, and I pretty much let it drop.
Last Friday when I was waiting to pick him up at school after his driving practice, he rounded the corner of the high school with [Dazy] bouncing along beside him. She really does move a lot like Tigger. Anyway, she needed a ride home: she'd been driving (in a separate car from Sparky's) and apparently her folks had told her they couldn't come get her so she had been bumming for a ride.
So, we crammed into the cab of my pickup. She barely spoke to me, thus cementing my impression of 'not good with grown-ups.' It was weird though: I took her to the local flop-hotel, but I think her family manages it judging by the unit she told me to stop at. And once she was out of the car I quizzed Sparky a bit more. She has a boyfriend, she doesn't interest him 'that way'--"Mo-ommmm!"--she's in the anime club. I didn't go too far, because I had a sudden memory of my sister picking me up from college freshman year and commenting for what seemed like forever on a guy who had been there when she arrived, a guy friend. It was ... icky.
While I was in California over the weekend, I had to use Sparky's cell phone. As I was waiting at the gate at the airport, I got a text message: "I luv u" from [Dazy]. I just remembered. I guess I should tell him about it, only a week later.
Who says our subconscious doesn't rule things? I had rather forgotten about [Dazy] until I woke up this morning with the vision of short strawberry-blond hair and geeky glasses in my brain.
Oh, and
of JULY!
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