2002 Story Set
| July 8, 2002 And it is hilarious. First, I have "Mother Withdrawal" symptoms. I want to fuss over my little chick. Second, he has withdrawal pains. He is even upset when I drag out a notebook to record events. He wants dinner conversation. Not interrupted by my thoughts on paper. He has bubbled all the way down to LA from Fremont, which did make the drive time shorter. He usually sleeps for the majority of the trip. Not this time. The drive was shorter until we got stuck in the mess due to a lifeflight helicopter and fatality in Newhall. Then, we got to sit in stopped raffic and complain to each other about bad drivers, like the woman drifting lanes in a traffic jam with a cell phone stuck in her ear., weaving around. And the black racing Tacoma duded-up truck (bigger than mine with higher struts and shocks and decals). We see the Bad Boy sticker (the little boy piddling) with the piddle arc removed. This was after seeing several intact versions. Driver must be trying to hold on to some values while succumbing to the lure of the truck brotherhood. I want the full image. There's a woman so fat that the steering wheel barely turns. That's a hazard. She needs a smaller wheel and a tilting mechanism. When I was pregnant I had a tilting wheel. A God-send. So I know. (I'm dieting. I'm dieting!) And the "My Boy" sticker on another car - an SUV - and two Bad Boy stickers. Is this a contest? Stamp your window with each kid you have? OK. I need two. My son commented that the side stamps on cars and planes were for other conquests. Like a notch on the gunbelt. Do I stamp two Fabio heads on my door? For the two times I bought him? I am upset that I couldn't really test my new truck (although it took the grapevine well). We would have made the hotel early but for the wreck. We see campers, RVs (even an RV towing a trailer with two more RV bodies on it). Motorcyclists run between the lanes of stopped cars. Neat for them but I see women bare-armed on bikes on a freeway! Hamburger if they fall! We comment on my older son's new goal. Pay off his Tacoma, get a bike. A Ducati - something, A Susuki first to learn on. Egad. That child's already made me gray! If he gets a bike, I'll go white overnight. What a prophetic discussion as Fabio is a speed demon motorcycle maniac. The younger one meanwhile keeps up his munching and bratty commentary all the way over the foothills. I made the trip on 1 decaf and 3 diet Cokes. I usually have 4 regular coffees, and 4 large decaf coffees. We shall see if this is better. (Actually, I was lightheaded later - dehydrated.) Traffic broke after that last stop at McDonald's. He has spent the evening making suggestions for the photos. And acting shy at meeting Fabio (whom he has actually met before - when he was 13). And he has photographed Heather Graham (the writer), Joanna Lindsay, and many other famous writers, and a few cover models. I tell my child to relax. What he wants is to not intrude on his Mom. He knows this is important for me. He fusses if he'll get good photos of me. I assure him, you will. Just no leaves in my face. He laughs. He'll be fine. I realize that I may not be happy if I have to leave him alone at the hotel after Fabio arrives. Even if he's almost 21! And is experienced signing for things to be charged to my room. I will leave it up to Fabio (who swooped him into the limo and took him along after all). Of course, I am also fussing about the truck. Valets and all. After supper, we had gone out to get a book from the truck and they could not find the keys. It took some time to discover that they were mislabeled. I got my book. The truck (I had been so noisy on arrival about it being undinged ) is parked in isolation across from the front door! I should relax. I am so glad I made them check on the keys! My son ends his day sprawled on my King bed in my room watching TV. He stays until we judge it OK to give him his GCSF shot. The whole reason for the ice chest was to keep the drug cool. The shot done, he moseys to his room. 8AM wake-up. I'll try. Breakfast served until 10AM. Of course, we could always drive somewhere. As long as I have 4-5 hours to dress I'll be fine! I watch him go to his room. I stay at my door until his closes. Baby steps away from mother. I will miss him so much when he finally leaves home! With all we have been through he has a firm grip on my heart. Of course, he knows this. |
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