So, they took his broken down, burstified, goopy ole’ appendix out last night. I half sat, half draped myself on our new (surprise!) couch all night long… clutching my cell phone in my hand so hard you can still see a faint NOZIREV on my palm.
I’ve talked to him 4 times already today and he sounds good. Groggy and slurry and mumbly, but good.
This is his one pass in his teenage years to talk to me directly while sounding high as a kite.
He’s got some infection that has to be treated… but they are letting him out of the hospital on Friday…. and I’m picking him up Saturday morning and bringing him back home into the warm, loving embrace of his Xbox 360 Mom.
Really, what he’s most bummed about is not having a big gross scar to impress the ladies with… and he doesn’t seem to hear me when I tell him that chicks really aren’t that into giant abdominal scars on guys anymore than dudes are interested in giant abdominal scars on girls.
What really impresses girls are dudes that don’t drink or smoke or do drugs or play in rock bands or ride motorcycles who write them poetry and make pancakes for their moms. OR SO I’VE HEARD.
