Some people’s kids

We went to visit with an old friend of both of ours this weekend, who neither of us had seen since…I think it had to be my 10-year class reunion for Jan, and about five years ago for me. (She doesn’t live around here, thus the long gap.) She now has a five-year-old son (the last time I saw her, the kid was t-i-n-y!), and once he was finally coaxed out of bed with the promise of ice cream and Doritos 😆 , I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. We’re about to have one of those. Holy cow. What’s really funny is that Jan didn’t meet this friend of ours until around college age; I’d known her since second grade and she was one of my best friends all the way through graduation. She stuck with me even when I went through a phase in high school where I was being incredibly stupid, selfish and hurtful to those around me. It just all reminded me of how much I want to make sure Evan has better, happier childhood than I had, and that he grows up to be a better person than I was at that age. My primary impulse anytime I run into someone from my high school days is, quite frankly, to apologize. I know teenagers are a hormonal mess as a rule, but I was a “special case”, with all that that phrase implies. Even what I was going through at home didn’t cover it and didn’t excuse it. I wouldn’t go back to those years for anything.

Speaking of hormonal messes, I was asked this morning if my wife had rounded the corner from Miserable and if she was now headed toward Really Miserable. Without really thinking about it long enough to censor myself, I said “She’s past Miserable and she’s well on her way to Make Everyone Around Her Miserable.” ‘Nuff said.