Flashback

Last night after dinner, we took Liam for a walk downtown; this weekend was Retrofest and we went to see if anything was going on. (It wasn't.) While on our walk we saw numerous limos driving up and down the strip, and it all became clear, when we saw a bunch of kids in really expensive clothes, that in addition to being Retrofest it was also prom night for one of the local high schools.

As much as I love Liam, part of me was wistful in seeing these kids, and suddenly I didn't want a job or a kid or a mortgage or anything other than a really late night out with a bunch of friends and no curfew (and Chad as a date. Oh, wait a minute, that didn't happen the first time around, either.) The idea of being 17 again had its advantages. After hitting the ATM, the prom-goers headed out to dinner and to get loaded, and Chad and I headed home, where I changed a dirty diaper and gave Liam a bath and read Goodnight Moon through twice before collapsing into bed exhausted. Who am I kidding? I couldn't stay up to make it to the end of a prom these days if I tried.

Today I woke up feeling much better about things, but as the day progressed, I wanted the high-school me back more and more. We went out to the lake and Liam was sullen and miserable all afternoon, and by the time we got home he was burning up and didn't want anything to eat and went to bed before 6 p.m., though he's been up a half dozen times since. I think he has a molar coming in, so I am in his room every 20 minutes with a sippy cup of cold water and the Baby Orajel. When I hold his sweaty little body and he finds comfort in the fact that I am doing so, there is no place in the world I'd rather be... but it sure would be cool if I could do it while wearing a killer dress and with a cold drink in hand.