Friday, September 12, 2003

I'm not having dinner at home

Part of what makes mothers, well, mothers, is that they have this innate intuition about their children. There are times when they miss, but they're pretty sharp.

My mom cottoned on to the fact that I'd a girlfriend (pretty obvious, the late night phone calls and stuff), how she'd figured out that she was leaving soon, that I was trying to spend all the time I could with her, that she didn't even grumble when I skipped dinner at home for days in a row, came home late at night, I don't know.

I'd told her this morning that I needed to have an early dinner because I needed to go out, and she casually asked if I was sending a friend to the airport? I said yes and had to turn away quickly lest she saw my reddening eyes.

I guess I have been in a rather fragile emotional state recently and this subtle hint that she cared was a bit too much for me.

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