In His Wildest Dreams

September 2002 - from 1999
     
      I found this story on a notebook computer and turned up no hit on a website search - I must have missed it.
      This goes back to the Toronto RT Convention - where my son was the photographer.
     
      My son, my younger son, who was a bit of a lad when I first met Fabio, has achieved what he wanted.
      He is about to graduate from high school. Hopefully .
      If there is a God and this being is on my side he will graduate.
      So I did the Mommy ritual.
      Buy the boy his first adult-sized black suit. Black because he looks damn good in black.
      We know this. I have photos.
      From the prom.
      So we trundle off to Men's Warehouse.
      Because I bought my first husband his suits there (he is an attorney) and because I bought my older son his suit there (charcoal gray - spiffy - he's worn it about three times in five years. The moths probably ate it.)
      Because it's a habit.
      Because I like their ads.
      Enough reasons.
      So off we go.
      But first (there always is a but first) I have to go to Entrapment. And hide under his armpit (I hate heights) and then I can go shopping. With my stomach sloshing with soda.
      Of course.
      We get a salesperson - who is looking at a woman without makeup, windblown and dowdy - looking like something that crawled in from an alley - and a big kid in jeans, boots and a battered gray tee-shirt.
      This should be fun.
      I am thinking herringbone. Dark. Black slacks.
      Because the kid is going to start working out.
      Because he is going to Toronto.
      They don't have any. And the blue is too thick.
      So we migrate to suits and we try on a black one.
      Perfect choice.
      I have spawned an adult. Who looks like a corporate CEO.
      I pick out dress shirts (two), ties (ditto), suspenders (ditto). We get dress shoes and three pairs of dress socks and shoe trees. And pocket scarves. Two. One very formal look (white shirt - burgundy) and one more casual (blue with a tan-gold accent). Nix the belt. Suspenders make the pants flow nicely. Two sets of tie chains.
      But the 46 is a bit snug on his 6'1" and growing frame.......
      Turns out my little one, my baby, wears a 48Long - Fabio's size.
      Made him so proud.
      And he hasn't even started lifting weights. (They tell me they can adjust the suit when he does.)
      It's been his ambition to be bigger than Fabio.
      So I won't be tempted to stalk the blond one when I have the brunette handy.
      He forgot he is about to leave home.
      I'm done with this one.
      I am taking a baseball bat to Toronto however, this is still my baby.
      Hands off!

Needless to say - we are hoping he gets to leave home after chemo - 2003