Hitchhiking

There are some things you just don’t tell your momma.
Ever.
Then there are some things you tell your momma…eventually.

Now that I’m well into my adulthood, I get a kick out of divulging these latter type of things to my momma.  Things that were going on in my very self-centered world that (I thought) she might not have been aware of.  Like that time my best friend and I cut lunch when we were in high school.  We didn’t do anything “bad”, but the thrill of going off campus for lunch was something we couldn’t resist at the time.  I can’t remember all the details, but I do remember driving back into the school parking lot the wrong way and swiftly blending into the crowd to confused any authority who might have been looking for us.  Or that time, during our senior year, that my other BFF and I made a road trip to Columbia in the middle of the night to see her brother at USC.  Why?  Just because we could.  And yes, there are plenty of other things, but to keep from sharing evidence of any sort that my own sons could use as leverage in the future, I’ll plead the 5th now.

Last week, my oldest son hitchhiked about a 100 miles.  He was going from point A to point B, and used his thumb to get him there.  How do I know about this?  Not because he told me, I can assure you of this.  During his travels, he called my husband and told him.  That’s how I know.  🙂  Yes, my son would have told me…eventually…but this is the type of thing he wouldn’t share with me in advance, because he knows exactly how I would respond.  It’s probably how any other parents reading this would respond.

The more independent my son becomes, the more I can hear my momma saying, “I hope when you have kids they act the same way you did.”   I get it, momma, I really do.

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