Begin Again

Zel is moving back home. I knew he would; in fact I really want him to. He needs to get into school, and he just can't do that with the income he has and paying for his own place and all the bills that go with it.

So I took him to lunch last week so we could talk and share our feelings and work out the details. Zel is a good talker... and talker, and talker. His first word was at 8 months and he hasn't stopped talking since. We had a good lunch and worked through our expectations of living together again. His expectations: freedom that reflects his age, no nagging. Mine: respect for his dad and I, respect for the rules, and cleaning up after himself. It sounds good, reasonable, and attainable.

But, I think the dishes he left out all over the kitchen table last night is a bit of foreshadowing.
Sigh.