I picked up my son after work yesterday so we could take a trip to Borders. That's our favorite mother/son activity. Unfortunately, as soon as we walked into the store, a horrendous storm rolled through the area. It was lovely. Lights were blinking off, computers were going down. A teenager let out a blood curdling scream after one particularly loud clap of thunder. Good times!
But at least it gave us plenty of time to browse since the computers were down, so no credit cards, and I didn't have cash.
After we left Borders, I drove us to Red, Hot and Blue to get dinner. They have great barbecue and is one of our favorite places to pick up dinner. They also have a drive-thru. Now this is a restaurant that really shouldn't have a drive-thru since they make the food when you pull up, so you end up waiting for awhile. But I was too lazy to walk inside, so whatever. (Not to mention I'd gotten soaked earlier running into Borders).
We pull up and this friendly guy takes our order. Then he says, "Would you like a drink while you wait? No charge."
How nice! "Sure! I'll take a Coke."
J is sitting next to me reading one of his books, and not really paying attention, until the guys says, "How about for the little one?"
At that point, my almost 14 year old son, who is entering high school in August looks up. I say, "Sure, he'll take a Sprite."
When the man walks away my lips are quivering. I so want to laugh, but I can't. The man comes back and hands me the Coke and then he gives me the Sprite... The drink is in this little plastic cup with a cover. There are jungle animals in primary colors frolicking along the sides, happy as can be. It's exactly what J would've loved...at five.
I thank the guy and he walks away again. I look at my son and then at the cup. I still can't laugh since my window and the drive-thru window are open, so instead I say:
"I like your cup..."
"Tell him I'm in high school!"
"Did you find all the pictures yet?" (Oh, there was a game on it too where you have to find hidden objects. Hee.).
"Yes, I already found them. I even found the monkey's butt crack."
Confused, I try to see the cup, but he won't let me. "I don't think that was part of the game."
We sit for awhile waiting. Trying to stay positive, I say, "Well, at least you can't spill it."
Still resentful, he says, "Well, yeah, because it's like a sippy cup..."
My poor boy. Still getting sippy cups at age 13.
So the entire night that's what I called him. My little one. I also told him I would blog about it, so here it is.