Son 1: So when do I go to college? And how do I get there?
Hosea: [Names a date in August.] I will have had both of you here since the previous Sunday, so I assume we'll work out how you get there from here.
Son 1: Son 2 also?
Hosea: Yes, he's with us both from the same time. [Discusses the logistics of getting Son 1 to college.] And then after that Son 2 stays with me for another week before going back to stay with Mom [Wife].
Son 2: How long am I there for?
Hosea: You're with Mom for one more week before going back to school.
Son 1: Oh, dude, I'm so sorry. [Grins.]
Son 2: Sorry for what?
Son 1: That you have to spend a whole week with Mom, by yourself. I'm sorry that I won't be there to absorb some of the impact.
Son 2: But it's always like I'm there by myself. If Mom is yelling or needing something, you never speak up. You're always stuck on the computer. I'm always the one that goes to help her. The only difference if you're gone is that I'll be able to use the computer some of the time ….
I think Son 2's complaints aren't literally true, since Son 1 cooks dinner there a good bit of the time. What I found interesting was that staying with Wife is described as being such a burden. I mean, I guess I'm not surprised, but I'm still getting used to hearing it.
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Of course it's not all roses at my end either. Last night I made a dinner that neither of them would eat: it included boiled broccoli rabe – rapini – stirred in with pasta. Too bad, I kinda liked it. Oh well.
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On the way back from collecting them from Wife's house, they asked to swing by our old house to see if the new owners had fixed it up any. The differences were subtle, but there were a few.
Son 1: And just think … if you and Mom had been able not to be totally wrong for each other, we could still be living in a house instead of driving back to your crappy apartment.
Later on they said something else in a complaining vein about my apartment. I'm trying to remember … I think it was something about how I can't afford to live anywhere else.
Hosea: No, it's just that I prefer to spend my money elsewhere. On your tuition, for example. Or on art … that's why I was happy to buy you tickets to the upcoming rock concert. But I don't want to spend it on a big, fancy place to live.
Son 2: Actually I'm with you on that. I wish Mom would move into a smaller place, though I know she never will. But if she did, then maybe she could keep it clean ….
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