That’s me sitting there, and my 21 year old son is taking the picture.

Michael had called and asked if I would like to go to lunch…which is code for “I don’t have any money and I’m hungry Mom”…

I had lots of work to do, but you never know when your son is going to get a job that pays enough so he won’t need you to pick up the tab!

And who knows how many more times I’ll sit on a patio on a pretty day and have lunch with my only son?

I spent almost every moment I could with Michael while he was growing up. I anchored the 6 and 10 o’clock news most of the time but we never lived farther than 12 minutes from work so I could go home for dinner and do stuff like check on his homework. We took far more vacations as a family than as a couple.

I know some people who might say I spent too much time with my only son. Who knows? In some ways I probably did. There were summers I should have sent him to camp instead of taking him to the water park. I was always torn. So I probably made that mistake. I certainly wasn’t the perfect Mom.

But now that he’s almost grown I know this. I don’t have a lot of regrets, but I count among the few I do the moments I could have savored with Michael but chose to do something else, or was preoccupied with something else, instead.

So the next time he calls for lunch, you bet, I’ll answer the phone. Because before you know it, he’ll be 22.

***

By the way, We went to Samson’s Gourmet Hot Dogs, one of his favorite spots, for lunch. It’s a cute little place where you can sit outside on the patio and talk, which is torture for him because there is nothing he would like to do less.

The kids who work there are so nice I wanted to give it a little plug.

My favorite is a simple Samson’s Dog with mustard, relish and jalapenos.

Michael ordered the Manhattan (Samson’s Dog with Sauerkraut, Mashed Potatoes and Grilled Onions) and the Smoker’s Delight with Smoked Chipotle, Guacamole and Cheddar, because he’s still growing, lol.

They do make a killer Bread Pudding for dessert.

Love,

jane-signature

P.S. He’s at the age where he doesn’t want his picture to be “on Mom’s blog”…you know how that is…

 

 

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