I’m going to sleep soon but I wanted to write this down so that I don’t forget.
Dylan told me that he’s been listening to Panic at the Disco’s first album a lot lately (which is musically out of character for him, but I share his view that it’s an exceptionally fun album.)
So today—after a very long drive down to pick him up and bring him home for the weekend—he’d already told me in great detail about the struggles of the past week. He also told me that college isn’t magically making him more charismatic and that it’s something he’ll have to try to develop.
We talked about lots of stuff and he took over control of the aux jack in my car to pick the music. He played a lot of stuff that he liked and just wanted me to hear, too.
Then, when we were about an hour from home, he put on that Panic at the Disco album. Because we both knew it and liked it, I turned it louder and we were singing along. I think that’s the first time we’ve ever done that.
It made me feel like all was right in my world again. We still have the same bond between us that we always have. And I’m so, so grateful for that. I feel like I’m a very lucky mom.
And screw my mom for saying Dylan’s “too close” to me. I’ll take it, thank you very much.