Out of order

i owe you, my dear readers, a post describing the most wonderful office party ever.

This is not that post. I blog today from a booth at a locally owned coffee shop. I am so hip. Why am I here all alone on Christmas Eve? Am I working on my book of depressing verse? The great American novel? Nope. I am chaperoning a date.

Wilson is exchanging gifts with his lady friend. He already looks like a lanky little Labrador. He is all arms and legs. Make him incredibly nervous and sit him next to a girl. He may have been visibly shaking on the way here. They are cute and are chatting one another up out of ear shot.

The car ride however was awkward for even me. He made a statement suggesting snow for Christmas.  She replied that she would not like that due to the cold and the amount of work? Strike one for her just FYI. He then reverses course and agrees with whatever she says. I trained him well and he listened to the pep talk.

My mother and father tell the story of driving me to pick up a girl for a dance in their minivan. As I opened the door, the top half came unhinged and hit the poor girl, whoever she was. On a scale of that to really great, this is pretty great.

We have other plans and I need to give him the high sign. What kind of wingman would I be if I broke up his game? He may never, in his words, get his swagger back. I can wait.

My life has come to this. Explaining which coffee drink to buy to sound like he knows things and watching him flirt from afar. It is a macchiato by the way. Sounds cool but also has enough  sugar as to be drunk by a boy of nearly 13 years.

Seriously, the hand gesturing Wilson?! He is his mothers son. Once when explaining string theory, she simultaneously signaled a runner on base to steal second at Wrigley Field and had a C130 full of Navy Seals land at JFK.

Okay off to wrap this up.