Ominbus

Jeep Boy got a new job, busing tables at a very cool new restaurant owned by a friend of Perfect Man's, and cheffed by another friend of his (who you know is so important in the restaurant world). So we went for dinner (Perfect Man and I) on a pre-opening night, and it was just adorable. Oh my god, Jeep Boy looked so cute--tall, gangly, scared to death with the water pitcher, wide-eyed and ultra-alert. Not only that, his pants were actually up around his waist instead of below his butt (uniform regulation) and his cool restaurant T-shirt was actually tucked in. I wanted to cry! But instead, I called him over and said, "Hey, Jeep Boy. You're underpants AREN'T showing!" (Every morning, when he comes downstairs with his belt around his thighs and his boxers fully exposed, I say, "Jeep Boy, your underpants are showing," and he grimaces with forced humor. So when I said this on his first night on the job, in front of all the cute girls he works with--oh, relax, no one else heard me!--he pretended to grimace with forced humor. But personally, I think he really enjoyed my little joke.)

So Perfect Man and I have been all weepy and poignant for a week--"Oh, Jeep Boy is growing up! He looked so cute refilling water and clearing plates! Oh, he's so sweet and he looked so earnest!" Then, yesterday, Perfect Man found a quarter-empty bottle of vodka in Jeep Boy's desk drawer--apparently left over from some New Year's festivities. So much for weepy nostalgia! He asked me what I thought we should do. "Drink it!" I said. But it was rot-gut crap, so instead, he emptied the bottle, then taped a note to it that said, "We need to talk," and put it back. So far, Jeep Boy hasn't found it. Or maybe he has, and he's faking.

Man, sometimes being the stepmother is just totally awesome. I am SO out of this one!

(But I can't help thinking how much fun it will be to ask him what vodka drink he recommends next time we're in the restaurant! Hoo-hoo!)