I have big aspirations for the New Year.
I start the day with a healthy breakfast.
I track the points on my Weight Watchers (ok, now it's Wellness Wins, but it's still Weight Watchers to me).
I read my Bible.
I journal.
I write down three things I am grateful for.
So I'm off to a good start, right?
But then my son pounds down the stairs.
"Where's your hot glue gun?" he asks.
I wince. The hot glue gun is something we almost never used. At some point, in one of my constant (and usually futile) efforts to declutter, I think I either gave it away, or threw it out. The bigger question for me, though, is why my son needs a hot glue gun. Usually, that is not a good sign.
"I don't think we have one," I say. "What are you trying to do?"
"You used to have a hot glue gun," he replies.
"I don't think we have one anymore," I say. And then I repeat my question, "What are you trying to do?"
My son holds out his glasses, which are now in two distinctly separate pieces, broken right at the nose.
"What happened?" I ask.
"They're broken," my son says. "Do we have any packaging tape?"
I try not to wince as I imagine my son walking around with packaging tape on the nosepiece.
"You have insurance," I remind my son.
"I already called," my son says. "My prescription is a year old. They won't give me new glasses without a new exam."
"When did your prescription expire?"
"On December 22nd. So I'm a week too late. I have to have a new eye exam and new glasses. And I can't pay for both."
I have to think fast. My son is 25. I'm trying really hard to push him to be more independent and more responsible. I'm trying not to pay for things. Even so, I know glasses will wait a long time. And he really needs them. And then I remember that his birthday is only two weeks away.
"I will help you with glasses for your birthday. Do you want to do that?"
He thinks for a minute and then decides that he does.
"Call Cherry Creek and make an appointment," I suggest.
"I don't want to go there anymore. I'm going to Northfield."
"Call and make an appointment there. If you want me to go with you, don't make it before 11 on Saturday, because I have something else going on."
"Do you know the number?"
"No, but didn't you already talk to them?"
"Oh yeah." He pounds back upstairs to make the call.
In five minutes, he is back. "OK, I made it for ten on Saturday. And you do have to go with me to pay for the glasses."
I give up and decide it will be easier to change my plans than to have him reschedule.
Zay is not done.
"Do you think I should get contacts instead of glasses?" he asks.
And so 2019 begins.
Happy New Year.
You’re a good mom. I understand the push to make a son more independent. I also empathize w/ your son’s broken glasses dilemma. Good luck to you both.
ReplyDeleteWelcome back. I love reading your slices. And I'm always amazed by your patience, and creativity in parenting adult children. You rocked this one! Happy New Year, Carol.
ReplyDeleteOh, Carol! You have the patience of a saint. The back-and-forth dialogue put me right in the middle of the scene between you and your son and I was feeling frustrated for you.
ReplyDeleteGlasses. He should go with the glasses. ;)
Yes - your patience helps me remember to keep my cool with my young adults. They are teetering on the verge of independence yet still need help from Mama bird.
ReplyDeleteHappy new year!