Yesterday was a whirlwind of wonderful.
I went to my mother's home in Chillicothe under the pretense of borrowing some luggage (my road bag's shoulder strap snapped) but just ended up buying my own. It also turned into as a laundry trip as well. At some point we went to Carl's diner for lunch and were chatting (about certain men I may be interested in) when we were interrupted by the high pitch squeal of a toddler nearby. The kind of squeal that only some dogs can hear. The kind that make you stop to see if a fire has broken out nearby. When it dies down I make a face and my mother retorts,
"There's what you need right there."
"Wait. What? Are you telling me in your own weird way you want grandchildren?"
"NO! Nooooo. No, that's okay. You just keep living your solitary, lonely, single life."
At this point I make a face, a what the fuck face if you will. My mother back peddles by saying,
"No I mean you can still kiss boys and give them special hugs. Just wear a condom."
I burst out laughing. The entire diner turns to look at our rickety little table in the corner. I glare at the diner. They go back to their meals. I continue to laugh. I love my mom.
When I return to Columbus with all of my clothes clean for the first time in ages; I find Nicholas has returned from Wisconsin with thirty seven dollars worth of cheese. The night only got better from there.