When I entered the building, a student informed me I was not allowed to go up to a student’s dorm room, without a student present–which at the time made perfect sense what with today’s lock down, need for safety and privacy world. So I waited.

and waited..

and waited…

and waited some more.

My husband, who had been impatiently waiting in the car with our doll, parked the vehicle and offered to exchange places with me. “I was told I could not go up to his dorm room…” I explained and he replied, “Okay”. I in turn, walked back to the car and opened  my phone to a text message he’d sent the night before that read, “I’ll meet you in the dorm lobby between 9:30 and ten”.

“Mom, where’s Dyl?” The doll asked from behind. “Any number of places…” I began, “Except where he should be,” I finished. Looking back over the few texts he has sent me since leaving for college. Taking in a deep breath I said to his sister, “I can’t believe I haven’t seen him in a month, and already I want to kill him…” She smirked and said, “Keep taking those deep cleansing breaths, Mom”.


A few weeks back, after not hearing one iota from the boy I sent a text which read, “You need to do a better job of communicating with your parents…” His reply a few hours later read, “I’m sorry to have left you so despondent, but I have a shit ton of work to do here”. Leave it to Dylan to make me laugh even when I’m mad at him.


When my phone rang, I found my husband relaying how he said screw to the rules and went up to the boy’s dorm door and began pounding until he answered. “Oh dad, I didn’t hear my alarm…” Was our son’s reply. Ten minutes later, the both of them emerged from the main lobby doors and there he stood, all 6’3″ of my son, arms outstretched, calling my name and then enveloping me into a stinky, albeit welcoming; hug. “Mom, mom, I’m so sorry. I had plans to wake up early and take a shower, but overslept. So now you get to see me how my teachers see me every single day…” He relayed and I tried not to cringe on his details. As we pulled apart I asked, “Dyl… were you eating Cheetos this morning?” Looking back at me oddly he replied, “No, but I was last night…” then he looked down at his right hand, where his fingers were the distinct color of Cheetos dust. “Oh, I still have Cheetos on my hand…” He began, before raising his hand to his face and said, “Oh, I still have some crumbs on my face too…”

Forcing me to once again, try my best not to cringe at his details.

















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