I’m just getting home and, yes, my mom waited up for me again. Well she tried, took a nap, and woke up when I opened the door. That’s her version of waiting up for me. She’s done it a couple of times now and this time, it was nice.
It’s cool to know someone cares. It must because I’m still on an emotional high from re-watching the 50/50 movie. I’m feeling, huggy right now, which is totally against my personality.
Seeing my mom try to wait up reminds me of a story one of my ex-co-workers told me. Her son is now 26ish and she told me how when he went out she would wait up for him. She said she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help it. So she’d wait until he got home to go to sleep and never tell him anything in the morning. If he shared, then she knew. If he didn’t, then she didn’t know.
Her son was a big guy. Not fat, but one of those people who are bigger than average. So whenever his friends went downtown for drinks he would go because he felt he had to protect them in case they got into trouble. She was proud of him for that, but she worried.
Right now, I appreciate that my mom worries. I’ll be sure to tell her what happened tomorrow.