I was flipping mindlessly through my Amazon account last night and found an order shipped to my son in college.
Ingrown toenail medicine. I didn’t know he was having trouble. I texted the boy to see how he was. Was he in a lot of pain, could I help in any way…you know, the basic questions. I texted him at 9:30pm and promptly fell asleep. When I woke up this morning, he had texted back and said…
“No. I went to the clinic about it and it’s getting better.”
Now, this empty nesting thing has been a pretty easy transition for me. Sure, I miss seeing my kids around and the refrigerator is VERY empty. But it’s been much easier than I thought it would be. I do talk to them often; they seem happy and get photos, etc. Thank you, technology!
But I wasn’t prepared for this. I wasn’t prepared for an ingrown toenail to put me over the edge.
I was in the kitchen when I read the text and immediately burst into tears. Jason came in when I was weepy. I proceed to say…”I didn’t even know about the toe, AND he probably would never have told me if I hadn’t seen the Amazon order. I used to know everything that kid did. I hate this.” The realization that he doesn’t really need me for everything anymore really hit me hard.
Yeah yeah, Jason…They are supposed to be smart and resourceful and handle things on their own now. We did our job. This is what is supposed to happen. Yep. I get it. I know it, I just don’t have to like it.
I’m just going to stay out of the Amazon order history from now on. It’s safer that way.