“I’m REALLY hungry.”
“But you just had breakfast a couple of hours ago.”
“I know, but I’m hungry. Can I please have two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a big glass of milk?”
Redhead mathematics begin in my head: Wow if he eats one extra sandwich every day and it costs about $1.29 per sandwich, by the time he is 18 that’s $2,700 just in sandwiches. I could take best-friend girlfriend to Las Vegas for three days and have handsome waiters bring us cute little umbrella drinks while we check out their butts… or that’s roughly 20 new pair of Italian shoes … or a short trip to the Caribbean …or…
I snap back to my senses.
Yes, but why don’t you try just making one sandwich and see if that fills you up?”
Visions of cabana-men-waiters calling my name still dance through my head.
“Mom, I’m making another sandwich. I’m still hungry.”
Visions of private cabana-waiter-men explode into vapor, replaced with visions of me working a second job at night stocking shelves.
“Oh, and Mom?”
“I need a haircut.”
“Didn’t we just get you one?”
“MOM! Look at my hair.”
If he gets his hair cut every six weeks for the next six years, and there’s dances, special occasions … that’s about $1,000 or so.
“(Sigh) Ok, I’ll make the appointment”
“Oh, and I also need some new shorts.”
“Are you old enough for a paper route, or some lawn mowing service yet?”
“Wouldn’t you like to go live with your Dad all the time instead of me?”
“But I’m your weird mom.”
“Yeah, but you cook better.”
“I suppose there’s that.”
Until next time-
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