Breakfast With a Cover Model - Not!

Last Edit September 26, 1999

We decided that we would have breakfast Friday morning with Troy.
We have been picking on him all week. Wee, for two days.
Posing.
Egging him on.
He's been playing right along.
He's not quite sure about us.
HE is a contestant for Mr. Romance - '99.
We waylay him at rehearsals. (These guys have their days very carefully planned - I am surprised that breathing is allowed). Of course, they have their rules.
We have our own.
We plan for 7:30 AM.
It was 1 before I got into bed.
Later for Janice and Troy - who still had rehearsals going on.
I got up on time - but it gets harder every day!
I get a shower.
Actually, I have to force myself out of the shower - standing there in the heat felt sooo good!
I shake my kid awake.
He has photos to take.
It's harder to wake him up every day.
The hotel has no vent in the bathroom - so he steams up the mirror while he takes his shower. I have convinced him I will not peek - so the door is ajar. A little.
Because it is hard to put on makeup when you are half asleep and peering blindly through steam. At 22 stories up, I am not opening a window.
My son, ever the jokester, draws a happy face in the steam.
I have found that I don't just have to get up and fix myself up, I have to IRON my son's clothes every day.
Note that he goes to school rumpled and uncaring.
For this event, I press the pants. Thank god for the steam iron - I didn't bring the spray starch.
I press his pants.
His shirt.
He is a set of clothes set out for each day, each event.
The first pair of pants I grabbed had a stain - so I do a second pair.
I grab my pills (23 of them - hard to swallow) and gulp Medifast.
Gulp coffee - even if it is decaf.
We make it out of the room and up to the clubroom on the 43rd floor, on time!
GAK!
No Janice.
No Troy.
I grab a snack. Decaf and strawberries.
My son, ever efficient, calls down to Janice - who is sound asleep!
We don't call Troy.
We figure he is too. (He was.)
We enjoy breakfast.

Janice makes it up with wet hair by 8AM.
Staggering.
Just as we are leaving.
Of Troy there is no sign.
The first event of the day is - cover model parade.
We go.
My son shoots photos.
There is Troy.
Staggering.
Seems there was no wake up call.
He apologizes.
OK. I can forgive him.
I know his schedule.
I hug him.
Old lady's privileges.
But he missed us in the bar the night before.
This is twice!
I vote for him anyway! Reader's Choice!
But, I warn Troy later.
I carry a pen!
And my son is off with his camera and rolls of film to continue recording the conference.