one more week of school

We turned in for the night after hoisting the front windows to let the moist, warmish spring air do its thing. It huffed and puffed in tender breaths, bringing in the sweetness of fresh-perfumed air and reminding me that there were dust bunnies under the bed.

"It's late," I advised my house-cleaner. "You can sweep them up another day."

Who am I kidding. I am my own house-cleaner.

We tossed our winter blanket onto the dust bunny-littered floor and set our sights for the Land of Winken, Blinken, and Nod.

After a few blissful hours of deep & satisfying slumber, I awakened abruptly with the jarring thought that #1 Son was not yet home for the evening. It was going on 2:30 am, so I rousted my limber joints from my bed and padded downstairs to have a thorough look-see. Nope. No college-aged body on the couch.

I reluctantly but firmly punched in his number on my phone. Ring. Ring. And then a sleepy voice:

"Hello?"

"Hey, where are you? It's 2:30 in the morning!"

(Clearing throat) "Um. At school."

"Why are you THERE?"

"I'm sleeping." (inflection: DUH, mom....)

It had completely slipped my mind that he had another week of school.
Let's hope that he thought the whole conversation was a dream, shall we?