Or something like that.
First, the bombshell. My baby, my first born, my sweet, sweet son (he's sweet now that he's living on his own and is self-sufficient) has decided to co-habitate with his girlfriend. What's so horrible about that, you ask?
I have not met her. What if she's not worthy of my son?
Never would I have ever thought I'd be THAT mom. The one who instantly distrusts any girl who ropes my son in. But I've never met her. They've only been "together" for about a month. A month! Again with being THAT mom. I swear, I'm not. I have no idea who this crazy lady is who has taken over my thoughts.
All I want is for Digger to be happy. No, really. That's what I want. So who is THAT mom who keeps taking over my feelings?
He assures me I'll love her when we meet. Of course he does. But he's my baby. He's only 19 - what does he know about happily ever after? (Mom and Bill - don't. want. to. hear. it.)
So what that I was 18 when I got married and 20 when I had Digger. That was me. Not my baby.
I guess part of my problem is that while I thought about the kids growing up and moving out - I never really counted on them getting married. That was a totally abstract thought. Sure, they were going to grow up and get married. But it never crossed my mind that I'd have daughter- or son-in-laws.
I know, I know. I'm jumping the gun. They're just moving in together.
First, they got a dog.
The next day, I find out they're going to be living together.
Now what? (Mr. Daddy - we've had this conversation, you just shut it.)
On to the radio silence. I'm off the radar for a few days while I'm off at SHOT Show with Tara. See y'all in a few days.