He’s got a job! What would normally be a joyous event was turned into a Killjoy party. Last night as he asked me for my GPS and EZ-Pass he was lamenting the fact that he had to drive to the Bronx for training at dawn. I turned to my wife with a look of an expletive phrase and she waved her hand as if to say, ignore him. I was amazed, disheartened, and my popcorn got burned instead of popping.
Nothing seems to make my stepson happy except for the latest exercise regimen he has discovered on the Internet or what type of organic foods and supplements he should ingest. I know he is still relatively young and he has changed dramatically from the days of “The four year ordeal, getting him up for school”, but when you witness progress, it never seems to move along to a pace beyond the lower speed limit, because speaking personally I want it to hurtle, rather than like the imperceptible movement of the minute hand on a watched clock.
Although to be fair, maybe it is my son’s defense mechanism to prevent him from getting too high on anything until he can wrap his brain around the fact that he really likes something or not. Time of course will tell, and I told him that no matter what happens it is not a reflection on me that is going to put me on a hot tin roof. Cat or no cat.
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