My oldest is home for spring break. Not that his spring break coincides with Easter, but he's home.

Going to get him is unreal. If I can just drive a little faster, walk through the airport a little quicker, pray a little harder, he'll get here sooner. But he gets here when he gets here. He always lets me hang on him. Not as much as he did after Plebe summer, but I still get to hang on him in public.

Of course he's starving and has to be fed right away. Why he brought no money to buy food, I'll never know. It either has to be Subway, Jamba Juice, or In-N-Out Burger. He'll settle for Pepperidge Farm Gold Fish Crackers to tide him over.

The next 36 hours bring a re-bonding of him with his bed and his brother. Screaming and thumping can be heard upstairs. That's usually my signal to start with the threats.

This evening he was laying on the couch. "Remember, you have a derm appt. on Wednesday." To this he replies, "I know." I ask him why he changed his mind about going. Even in high school he wouldn't go. My concern was his face scarring. He answers me with, "I decided you were right." I was right? How? "I didn't want my face to scar." Hmmm. He continues to lay there under his blanket. "Mom, will you rub my hair?" This is how I got him to go to sleep for a nap when he was very little. If I thought he was alseep and I stopped prematurely, he would open up his big hazel eyes, take my hand, and put in back in his hair. I don't know how long I sat there, just stroking his hair, until I noticed his eyes moving in a REM pattern. Mike even tried to tickle his feet, but he didn't wake up. It still worked, even after almost 20 years!

I got up from the couch. Mike and I just watched our 6' baby sleep. He may be legally an adult, but it's nice to know he still needs us, at least a little bit longer.