Conversation with Mike

At 2:30 today, exactly 41 hours after he was supposed to be home, Mike calls my cell. I’m at the grocery store.

“Hi, Mom. I’m back with David (friend I dropped him off with). Can you come pick me up?”

“Mike, do you realize that it’s about 2 days later than you’re supposed to be home?”

“Yeah, but the people I thought were going to give me a ride home couldn’t.”

“I thought David said you got in their car.”

“yeah, but they said they couldn’t bring me home and I couldn’t find a phone.”

“Well, I’ve been worried about you and haven’t been able to sleep well.”

“Well I haven’t slept for two nights.” (like that is somehow my fault)

“I’ll come get you, but don’t mention the word Trust to me again.”

“If that’s what you think.”

Click.

So now I got cortisol running through my brain and my blood pressure is rising, but I call him back.

“Hello?”

“Where do you want me to pick you up?”

“Did you hang up on me?”

“No, I thought you hung up on me.”

“No, I didn’t. Where should I pick you up?”

“How about Casey’s?”

“I can’t pick you up at David’s?”

“No, I’m a long way from there.”

“OK, whatever.”

So, I’m off to get him. He is SO FAS.