My older son brought his girlfriend home to meet the parents. Actually, he came home from college to take care of some personal business and he brought the woman he is seeing along with him. But it has the same practical effect of something potentially more meaningful.
My wife picked them up last night at the train station after I had already gone to bed, and our guest was still asleep when I left for court this morning.
But I like her already.
It is not just the story of how she introduced herself to him, however charming that story might be. And it is not just that my wife has raved about her – how smart, pretty, and composed she is. Rather, it is hard not to like someone who has thrown in her lot – however temporary that may be – with one of your children. She is obviously a person of very good taste.
My son did make an appearance before I left for work. Watching the tall and handsome young man who seems so comfortable within his own skin sitting across from me at the breakfast table, I couldn’t help thinking back to the small, wiry young boy he used to be – 30 to 40 pounds of sheer intensity.
My mother was taken aback one summer as we were leaving Cape Cod to witness what my wife and I always described as one of his “meltdowns.” Clearly overtired after a week with his cousins, he decided that he did not want to leave. I knew from experience that the best thing to do was to simply grab him up and stick him into the car, strapping him into his car seat.
On this particular occasion, I climbed into the back seat with him while my wife took the wheel. He calmed down almost immediately. I remember the look of his blue eyes observing me with interest – almost surprise – from the length of the car seat, the tension, indignation, leaving his body as we settled in for the long ride home.
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