Airport

So, my one-day reprieve is over.  I took the boy to his parents' house, and he seemed surprised that I didn't come in.  Well, honey, I had a meeting at noon, plus I've not showered, am wearing no makeup, and the outfit I have on is yesterday's.  Plus, there's a very active four-year-old boy in there.  So thanks, as much I want to be around you FOREVER AND EVER, I will not be joining you in your folks' house.

In an hour I'm leaving to go to the airport to say goodbye to the boy.  I absolutely do not want to do this.  This is because once I see him leave, he's gone, and I won't see him again for months.  I don't want him to go.  He doesn't want to go.  We've had such a good time together.  We ate out a lot.  We stayed in a lot and watched TV.

He is now addicted to Teen Mom.  See what I do?

So we drank and ate and laughed and talked and laughed and talked and laughed and talked.  And once he's gone, how will I fill the time?  I've gotten used to seeing him three or four times a week.  I've gotten him used to being, at the furthest, four-and-a-half miles from me.

I better go take a shower.

I don't think my mascara's waterproof.