Get a phone call on a Tuesday from the 31-year old appendage commonly known as ”son”. It goes something like this….
Son: Yeah, well, so I start my new job in Santa Monica on Monday.
S: Well, I’m driving. I’ll need my car out there.
S: Let’s see, my car has been sitting in the driveway for 6 months and has no insurance…
S: yeah and apparently my license has been revoked because I got a ticket in NY and I neglected to pay it.
S: Dad said he will drive up here to Hoboken on Thursday morning to help me move my shit out of here. Then maybe I can get the car inspected sometime during the day Thursday so I can leave Friday morning.
S: Yeah and well I’m so busy finishing out this job, I’ll never have time to figure out insurance and getting my license reinstated and getting the car serviced for the trip.
S: Thanks, Mom
So, of course, I get home from work on Thursday with the knowledge that I’ve helped pave the road West. The car is sitting in the driveway, serviced and inspected, driven by someone with a newly reinstated license AND new insurance.
In addition to the many phone calls I’ve made during the week, I make a lovely dinner for son, husband and PopPop – a dinner, which by the way, has not escaped the scrutiny of husband who whines as usual, even though I’ve made a salad with ICEBERG lettuce.
The family shows up to celebrate the nephew/cousin who will now embark on a journey that none of us have ever conceived of, given that we all live within a 10 mile radius. Some of us live across the street from one another, some of us on the same street more or less.
It is mostly an excuse for cousins to drink together. Aunts, uncles, parents, etc., do their bit and help with the alcohol consumption, good wishes and monetary gifts. I kick them all out at 11 knowing that 5:00 will come all too soon. And it does.