Hey Nineteen

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Nineteen year olds are plentiful in my life right now.  First of all, there’s my oldest son.  Although he is away at college he sometimes delights me with random texts and Snapchats providing about 12% of the information about his life that I am craving.

Wes award text

Another example is the boyfriend of my oldest daughter.  Him I see constantly.  He knows a lot of things.  He is a respectful guy, nice to our daughter, and would rather be at our house than anywhere else, so he is.  A lot.

Another one unexpectedly crossed my path yesterday.  I was leaving a friend’s house walking towards my car when my son’s high school teammate pulled into the driveway directly across the street.  He waved at me all friendly-like, probably remembering that I made a poster with his name on it last year.  “JUSTIN TIME” was waved proudly last spring at OLHS every time he hit the back of the soccer net.

Crossing the street to greet him with a motherly hug, I saw immediately that he was distressed.

“I’m trying to get to the dentist and I have a flat tire.”

I couldn’t help but offer, “I’ll haul you to the dentist if you can get a ride home.”

“Aw, SWEET!”  He said as he texted his mom not to cancel the appointment.

I asked by way of conversation how he got the flat.

He put me on hold while he was fiddling with his phone.

“Hold on.  I’ll tell you in a second.”

He tapped and sent and tuned back in to his surroundings.

“OK–the flat tire story…it’s funny.  You know that truck is Goldstein’s, right?”

“No.  I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah.  He’s letting me use it.  Anyway, another buddy of mine asked to borrow it so I said, sure OK but it’s not mine, right?  So then I gave him the whole nine:  Drive safe.  Don’t drink.  No weed.  Don’t text.  You know, because it’s not my truck and also it’s not insured.”

“Very responsible.”

“Right?  I know.  You would think.  So not 7 minutes after he took off, he was in the parking lot, you know, goofing around on the ice and snow, and he hit a curb doing donuts.  Busted the tire.”

“Woah.  Bummer.”  (this is the only lingo I’m allowed to use at my age)

“So, yeah.  So I went to try and put more air in it, but dude.  It’s the spare.  So I couldn’t find the valve on it.  Crazy, right?”

“Well, it sure is grown up of you to make your dentist appointment.”

“Yeah thanks for the ride.”

“All I ask is a selfie.   Wait a minute…why isn’t it working?”

“I think you turned the camera back around.”

*click*

“Take care Mrs. H.”

“You take care too, Justin.”

Remind me not to let you borrow my car.

Remind me not to let you borrow my car.

He thinks I’m crazy, but I’m just growin’ old

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