Mrs. Fetched is getting better now. [cue SFX: stadium cheer] She wasn’t quite up to prom dress shopping with Daughter Dearest as planned, but she did get out of the house with DD to pay some bills and the like. Seeing that her world of the previous 48 hours was the living room, hallway, and our bedroom (mostly the living room), this is a big improvement.
But that’s not what I’m here to tell you about. I’m here to tell you about The Boy.
The Boy, as always, was gone all last weekend. But come Monday, he didn’t show up in the evening as usual — with or without Snippet. He swung by late Wednesday evening, when I would have been at choir practice except that I was looking after Mrs. Fetched.
“I got an apartment with [two other guys],” he told me. “I’m just here to get some clothes and stuff.”
[cue SFX: stadium cheer with The Wave] TB01!
It was pretty cold that particular night, and I found his heavier jacket for him and made sure he took it along. He also picked up a loaf of bread (not a problem) and some CDs (ditto). I didn’t think to ask him if he’d found a job, and he didn’t volunteer the information. He had said last week that one of his friends’ grandparents were going to pony up for an apartment, so he may have been straight with us. If so, they could be on the hook just for food & utilities. I hope they know (or learn) how to cook. This time of year, it would be ridiculously easy to cook: buy a crock pot, dump meat & veggies in it in the morning, come in & eat it for supper. I never could get him & M.A.E. to stand still long enough to show them how to eat cheap & healthy; maybe if he comes by and complains about groceries, he’ll be willing to listen.
I really hope this works out for him. Taking care of himself will teach him responsibility more effectively than we ever could.