Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Ms. Robinson?

I'm amazed at the way my son operates.

He may not be a doctor some day, but believe me, The Boy is already a specialist.

The Sidekick and The Graduate came over to the house tonight. A great time was had by all, and we discussed and laughed until we realized how much time had gone by. ( I apologized for the sly webcam remark I made in my previous post - I think I hit close to the mark though.) Any deviation in my usual posting time can be attributed to them.

They had showed up before it was time for The Boy to go to bed.
He knew they were coming over, as we told him they were stopping by for dessert after dinner. He was incredibly excited about having Ice Cream & Apple Crisp as a treat. It was all he would talk about for almost two hours. ( The Boy doesn't get a lot of sugary stuff, so when the occasion demands it, he does get quite exuberant.) He was constantly asking when he was getting his Ice Cream.

And then She walked through the door.

The Boy was fascinated. Transfixed.
Even before the Graduate had removed her shoes, he was asking if she'd like to go see his bedroom. (Sure it was to show her the mess he made with his story books, but it's a start.) He was pulling her down the hallway, and kept saying "Come see! come see!"

He had completely forgotten about the rest of us.

From that moment on, until he went to bed, every look was at her. Every question was directed at her. (Trust me, he asks a lot of questions) Any subject we discussed, he asked her what she thought. The moment he found out she liked Futurama, I knew we had lost him. He showed her his favorite toys, pulled out his favorite DVD's and told her his top three favorite Futurama episodes. (Parasites Lost, Less Than Hero, and Fry & The Slurm Factory- in that order - in case you were wondering.)
She was his primary focus until it was his bedtime. When it was time for hugs and kisses before bedtime, who did he run to first? I'll give you one guess.

He worshiped her like a Goddess.

I can see it now.

He'll be twenty years old, a strapping young lad, (The spitting image of his father.) and she'll be a thirty-eight year old cougar out on the prowl. She'll seduce him with "come hither" looks and stories of "I used to tuck you into bed", only to offer to do it again.

And me?
I'll be an old man, unable to do anything but give him a high five when he tells me, and tell him to cross that one off the list.


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