I’m going to talk about David.
He took me to dinner last night, as a birthday gift. Having your 20 yr old son take you to dinner is probably the best birthday present you could get, especially when he tells you things like this:
“I’ve got my budget figured out, and by the end of the year I’ll have enough in savings to build myself a new computer AND have enough to buy a car in case the one I have blows up or is wrecked or something.”
“My new roommates are cool. One of them plays in a Christian rock band, the other one works out all the time and is never there.”
“Would you write me a cookbook? I’ll get a list up of the things you make I want recipes for.”
“No, I don’t think I need anything. We don’t have a microwave but all I ever heat up is hotwings and those are better from the oven anyway.”
“I whupped CJ’s ass, then I talked to him about how he’s screwing up his life and the only one he’s hurting is himself. I don’t know if he understood what I said but sometimes brothers can say it better than moms.”
*this* is what I thought parenthood of a young adult would be like. I’m not going to say anything about “favorite son” because it’s not like that. It’s just a blessed, blessed relief to have a child who’s reached adulthood without scary drama.