Boy came home a week early.
Who loves his mama?
Here’s how that went.
Eight o’clock last night as I’m driving home from CVS, I get a text from him:
“I think I want to come home.”
An hour later, he had a new plane ticket that I had to buy outright, because the people at Travelocity wanted to charge me FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS to reticket him. I simply got off the phone with the very nice man from Pakistan and bought him a new ticket from Spirit Airlines. This saved me $316 and saved Boy three hours of travel time, which was to include another layover in Atlanta’s airport.
On the trip up, I got really odd texts from him while he was in Atlanta about the used needles receptacle in the bathrooms and the guy who was wearing a kilt and reading a book on Paganism, so you can imagine the crazy stuff that was running through my head at the idea of him spending three hours in Atlanta again. Plus, if he doesn’t know better that to share all that crazy stuff with his mother who will obsess over it, how much common sense could Boy possibly have? I’m just saying.
So, I picked him up from the airport this afternoon.
He’s already driving me crazy.