My son just sent me a text asking if he can go to his friend’s house after school to work on a science project.
Naturally I said yes. Any time Jonathan asks a question and there’s even the remote possibility that it has something to do with him doing school work, the answer is always yes.
Since I don’t know this particular friend and since I’m always on the lookout for opportunities to be a good, caring mom, I asked him to send me his friend’s address.
Which he did. Sort of.
The sort of was expected. For some reason he thinks that I can find anyone’s house with minimal information (possibly because I also moonlight as the family taxi driver).
What wasn’t expected was his use of the word “details”.
When I read this the first thought that came to mind was, “You’re going to give me more details? What?!! Who ARE you?”
The second thought that came to mind was, “Oh. My. God. My baby is sounding so . . . MATURE.”
As always, I ended the conversation by telling him that I love him.
Surprise #2 came when he said it back.
And then my heart melted.