It's a BOY!

Let me just get this out of the way and then we can move on… This parenting thing is HARD! I’ll wait a moment for all you “I told you so” types to get your collective “DUH’s!” and muffled snickers out of the way. I never suspected at this point in my life that I would be a parent (or try my best to act like one.) Of course at this point of my life there were a whole bundle of things I wasn’t expecting to be…..stuck in a less than stellar career…..wearing bifocals….GAY! But I am the proud adoptive parent (Fairy God Mother for those in the know) of a hard working 6’2” junior in college who screams like a girl when he sees ANY insect anywhere near him and for the moment his boyfriend as well. Needless to say the time we’ve all lived under the same roof has NOT been dull.

Still being quite young “my boys” do their best to help out around the house. But every once in a while they get distracted by a shiny objects and wander off forgetting what they were doing in the first place. Like the one day I smelled something strange coming from the kitchen. I followed the strange odor to an empty SMOKING pot on top of the stove. Knowing it wasn’t ME who was cooking a pot of smoking air and the main staple in my diet isn’t Ramen Noodles (a package of it was sitting next to the stove) my suspects were limited. After questioning the cats and coming up with zilch I headed to the boy’s room. I wasn’t surprised by the response I got when I asked them who was cooking, “Huh? Pot? OH!” I was NOT pleased and that’s when I heard something come out of my mouth I thought I would NEVER hear…. my mother’s voice! I’ve noticed this uneasy characteristic coming out more and more since the “Fairy God Son” moved in. Especially in such phrases as, “All right! Whose shaved pubic hair is in the Dirt Devil?” or “No, the recycles belong by the curb, not in the dumpster.” (Those statements were directed more toward the boyfriend than the F.G.S.) Not that I NEVER expected to sound like my mother one day but NOT so soon or so accurately.

Even with all their young adult fumbles they are good kids. A shining example of this was one evening a friend of mine was dropping me off at home after being out and he had asked if the boys were home. I said to him, “Sure they are. Why?” He had suggested I should make A LOT of noise while I went up the stairs just in case the boys were in the middle of “something.” I guess in his mind all young gay men do is eat, drink and have sex 24/7. I looked at him puzzled and told him these are my boys. One will be on his laptop while the other will be playing “Gods of War II” on his PS3. Sure enough when I went upstairs that’s EXACTLY what I saw.

The boys left for Florida last weekend and I was (at first) excited to have the house to myself for a while. It had been months since I’ve had the place to myself for an extended period of time. For the first couple of days it was nice. The apartment was quiet and peaceful. Things stayed where I left them, shoes were not scattered throughout the house and various junk foods (which I have not eaten in ages) were no longer in my fridge. Now I had lived alone for a long time before these Aeropostale-wearing-eating -machines descended upon my apartment so I was use to serenity. But somewhere around the third day I noticed something strange, the house was too quiet. There was nothing to trip over, no one sprawled out on my couch eating Skittles and no dirty dishes lingering in the sink waiting to be put in the dishwasher a foot away. Even though we’re usually tripping over each other I began to miss the boys. For as much as they drive me crazy and have turned my world upside down I do love having them around. When this all started I never thought I would say that but I do. This is must be what it’s truly like to be a parent.