Can you take it? Another teenage boy story. Warning: this is high in the ewwww content (Dorothy, maybe you don’t want to read this, I remember your reaction to other too much information posts in the past). Bear with me, guys, this is my therapy.
Sitting in the car 8:14 in the morning, waiting for Bryant. Our target departure time is 8:00. He gets in the car.
"I can’t find my clear nose ring." He has a nose piercing but attends a school with anti-piercing legislation and inserts this thing as a substitute. As if that negates the fact that he has his nose pierced.
"I have little sympathy for that," says the Mom (that would be me), immediately shutting down all further communication for the duration of the ride.
Eight minutes later we arrive at the school. He gets out, closing the door with gusto. "You’re welcome," says I.
Driving to work three minutes later my phone rings. Actually it clucks like a chicken. It’s him with an ecstatic voice, "Mom, you want to hear the coolest thing?
"Remember that nose ring I lost?" Give me some credit. How could I possibly forget in the three passing minutes? I admit, I suffer from middle age memory, but this isn’t one of those things that I’d forget like where did I put my keys or why am I standing in the storage closet with no clue what I came in for.
"He continues, "When I got into school I coughed and the nose ring was in my mouth! Isn’t that totally cool?" It had gone through his nose, up his nasal passage, into his throat and back up into his mouth.
See what I have to put up with? I do love him dearly, but he tries my patience. This is my boy:
Knitting update: one giant sized Lady Eleanor is off the needles! Photos soon, after I get over this miserable case of bronchitis.
Life's a Stitch 
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