It all started when an American girl met a German boy…
I came home from class this evening with only minutes to spare before Jaz’s bedtime.
Not only have I been working later, but when I *do* get home, I go straight to bed. I haven’t really seen or talked to my boy since Sunday. So, I was feeling pretty guilty when Martin sent him to me for a quick hug.
Our oldest went on her first date this evening.
He’s Italian-American, the son of family friends visiting from Italy this week. She invited him to her middle-school dance tonight.
Martin drove them. I reassured Martin this evening, telling him not to worry as Miss C is exactly like me when I was her age. There’s no emoji yet that matches his reaction to that.
I served with his mom in the Air Force, and they’ve known each other since they were 13 months old. (Their birthdays are weeks apart.) Our families got together often for playdates when we all lived in DC at the same time.
They had both sets of parents waiting for them when they got home, ready to talk ALL about it!
By all accounts, they had a great time, and we saw pics of them tearing up the dance floor with her friends.
Ahhh, middle school.
My son: “Mom, I’m hungry.”
Me: “That makes sense. You are a growing boy.”
My son: “No, I’m a STARVING boy.”
I threw some pizza, apples, and green beans at him. I think I have a few hours before he comes back…
Orange was a good color for us today.
Get every new post delivered to your Inbox
Join other followers