Late Night Ramblings!

Friday night in Times Square is absolutely crazy.  There are people everywhere and trying to walk down the sidewalk can get difficult at times.  I don't have an imposing presence so people don't part like the Red Sea when I'm coming through.  On the contrary, they actually act is if I'm not even there.  My son, on the other hand, is like Moses when he walks down the street.  People just seem to move out of his way when he's coming through.  Perhaps it's how he looks, how he carries himself, the fact that he's loudly singing "Promises, Promises" to any one who will listen, or maybe they see the Size 14 shoes coming at them, and they don't want to get their feet stepped on.  All I know is they move for him, but they don't for me.  So now, I find myself walking behind him, hand clutched to the corner of his shirt, tagging along as if I'm the child, and he's the parent. 

Speaking of parent and child, although loving this experience at living somewhere else for a little while, Bo is now beginning to talk of missing his father, as well as his two dogs and of course his friends.  On the one hand he is having the time of his life, and on the other, he can't wait to get home and spend the rest of the summer hanging with his friends and annoying his Dad.  Pretty much all of the normal things most teenagers do during summer break.  Here, he is up until all hours of the night, and then on just a few hours of sleep, springs out of bed early in the morning rearing to go. Perhaps he is yearning for his own bed.  Who knows?

My son, my hero. We went to another play tonight.  It is called "Near Normal" and in my eyes, it was "Near Good".  In Bo's, it was "Almost Good".  :-)  We both enjoyed it and gave it a rating of 7 out of 10.  In comparison, Promises, Promises got a 9.5 out of 10 from Bo.  For some reason, I am always cold now.  It doesn't matter what the temp is outside, I'm just always cold.  The theater was like an icebox and I couldn't stop shaking.  Suddenly, as we were sitting there watching the play, my son put his arm around me, pulled me close and with his other arm, started rubbing my arms to warm them up.  I thanked him afterward for doing that, and he responded "any time, Mom...I was happy to do it".  He's maturing into such a wonderful young adult and that moment will be one I will treasure for a long time to come.

My son, my older man.  After the play, we went to Ruby Tuesdays.  When the waitress came over, she started telling us about the specialty drinks.  She seemed to be directing this conversation toward my son, and after she left, Bo stated that he could have easily ordered a drink and got away with it.  I, of course, told him he was full of it, and that the waitress would never have thought he was old enough to drink.  At the end of the night, the waitress came with the check.  I decided I would ask her just how old she thought he was.  She looked him over, and then said "hhhm...I think you could definitely play a mature 17 or 18 year old.  On stage, you could definitely pull that off."  We never mentioned anything about him being an aspiring actor, so why she assumed he was one, I have no idea.  I then looked at Bo and said "See, I told you you wouldn't have got away with it.  She doesn't even think you're 18."  I then turned to her and laughingly told her "my son thinks he would have been able to get away with ordering a drink from you".  She looked at me like I had two heads and that's when I noticed a look of bewilderment on her face.  Suddenly it dawned on me.  She actually thought she was complimenting him by telling him he could play 17 or 18 because she believed he was in fact older than that.  Just how old did she think he was?  At least 25!!!  Slowly I turned to see my son sitting there with his arms folded, chest puffed out, and wearing the broadest grin on his face that I have ever seen.  Why do I do this to myself?  :-)