Friday, June 5, 2009


He doesn't know it, but that's what I call him sometimes. This arrangement, having another young man in my life, was his idea.

You get used to having men around. We started with one daughter, but since two sons have married, now have three, but none of them live here.

Never would I have gone looking for another person with testosterone running through his veins to live in my house. But he's a bocher, and FD knows him, so how hard could it be?

He happened to be visiting our youngest son. He goes to school with S. That night he might have had the following agenda.

The boys came over around 7:30, and I was about to serve some supper, invited them (there was another) to join us.

""OMG, this food is amazing, he tells S. "Do you realize how great you've got it?"

"Uh, sure. Whatever you say."

"No, I'm SERIOUS. This is so good."

Me: It's just garlic bread, pasta, and salad. You'd get sick of it.

"No, this is great. I'm moving in."

That's pretty much how it went.

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Cry, it's okay, bubbala. Tell me everything.