someday is tomorrow

Tomorrow morning my eighteen year old son will leave on his chest-beating-coming-of-age-I-am-an-independent-grown-up-hear-me-roar, road trip.

His traveling companions are also eighteen year old boys.

These boys are nerdy, MENSA, honor-roll types who just graduated high school last month and all of them either have a college degree already, or they have over half of the credit hours required to get one.

They also all have jobs, scholarships, serious career goals and no girlfriends, or baby mommas.

Put it this way, I’m not going to check my son’s bag for liquor or drugs, I’m going to check it for floss.

Yesterday I learned that an older, more experienced driver, an acquaintance and ex-college dorm-mate of my oldest son’s girlfriend, died in a tragic car accident last weekend.

Then my mother-in-law called to specifically remind me of her friend who lost a teenage daughter by way of an interstate accident fifty-million years ago.
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Tomorrow my son, aged eighteen and ten weeks, will drive fourteen hours across three states in holiday traffic.

I can’t breathe.

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