Young man

One of the joys of parenting older children is getting to know their young adult friends. Yesterday evening son came home around 10 with three friends. I left them chatting and sharing his malt whiskey. I hadn't known he was going out, where he was going, who he was going with until it happened, but was pleased to see his friends. I've met them before.

At seven o'clock this morning I bleary eyed wandered into the visitor's bed room to use the bathroom while husband was shaving in the other. But there's a lump in one of the beds! I think son has brought home a superfine specimen of young manhood. I guess he wasn't going to go home late to wherever he's come from, and fair enough son has given him a spare bed.

Might be a good idea if son warns me.