I went to see him one weekend when he was back in Seattle. After chatting with his family for a bit, he suggested we go to his room. Ummm, no thanks since your Mom and Dad are sitting here. He assured me he was considered a "man" in the house and they didn't care. Teenage boys...whats not to love about the bravado. It was a known policy in my house that males were not allowed in my room when my parents were home so I shirked his offer.
"Well," I pondered, "I don't think we have time."
"I don't think it will take that long," he assured me. Big sweet eyes all on me.
"But, with traffic, it will take us a lot longer..."
Our eyes locked and then he started laughing. Not a nice courteous laugh like oh ha ha ha...more like GUFFAW GUFFAW GUFFAW like a man with a front row seat to the premier of Eddie Murphy's RAW.
I ask him the source of his amusement.
He says: You
Me: Head tilt, confused.
Him: I don't mean downtown Seattle.
Me: What other downtown is there?
He: GUFFAW GUFFAW GUFFAW
and then says: This downtown. And looks at his lap.
Here is an excellent tip for college boy that I never shared: Laughing uncontrollably to the point you actually slap your leg and dry heave because I was unaware that by asking me to go downtown you were in fact asking me for a beejy humdinger is not nice.
PS: It is also the perfect way to ensure I will never go downtown.
PSS: I never believed you that it would be permanently injured by blue balls. Naive, yes. That naive, oh no.
Innocent little lamb I was, I dropped him off and went home. Bleat bleat.