Trey…the Older Boyfriend…is in the process of making Life Decisions. Deciding not to go back to the university he had been attending and swimming for. Deciding to join the military instead. A part of me understands it and realizes he is showing a ton of maturity. Another part of me wants to talk him out of it. But he’s not my kid. And even if he were, he is 20 and able to make this choice legally on his own. Instead of thinking of enlisting in the military as a “last resort”, he is seeing it as an opportunity; a plan; a way to make something of himself. For that, I am proud of him.
While standing in my kitchen this evening, discussing the above topic with Trey and my sweet girl, I glanced into the bathroom at the end of the kitchen and, in all honesty, jumped when I saw someone looking back at me. That someone was my own reflection in the mirror. The scary part was…I didn’t recognize myself at first. When did I get so old? So frumpy? So chunky? And what is with that hair? I though it was a good hair day. By definition, “good” would be non-frizzy and doing what I want it to do. But it was too straight, too long, too dark (not helped by the fact that the bathroom light was off). Yuck. I hated the reflection looking back at me. And just as soon as I had that thought, I was comforted by another,”all of those things are changeable. They are external. The really scary part is the inside. Take a closer look at that and then let’s talk.” I will and we will. (But in the meantime, I need a hair cut, a 25 pound weight cut and a clothing allowance.)
We’ve been hearing some noises in the attic, behind the walls, abnormal places at the very least. So My Man climbed up into the attic through our closet ceiling and scouted it out. Nothing. When he went to put the extension cord back in the shed on the carport I heard, “*&SD&(&H*&^!!!!!!!!!!” following by “HHHHOOOOONNNNNEEEYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!” I truly thought he had fallen or become impaled on something. He hadn’t. But he had seen a really long, thick, furry black and brown ringed tail scurrying away (thankfully) above him. I told him he was lucky…imagine if he had gone up into THAT attic to pull down my Christmas dishes (which is on the schedule to do this weekend) and had his close encounter of the raccoon kind!
Guess who will be calling Animal Control in the morning?