My son looked gorgeous this morning (most mornings, in fact).
He turned my head as he came into my office to say goodbye. Breathing in his soapy/cologne scent, I appraised him — black Paul Smith shirt with tiny white spots, grey sleeveless hoodie underneath a black leather jacket reminiscent of James Dean. Skinny black jeans and new ankle boots. All topped off with the coolest haircut - blonde and his natural black coming through. Blue eyes to die for. So grown up. So handsome.
“Bye, Mum.” He rushed out, bag flying off his broad shoulder.
“Bye, darling. Have a good (slam)… day.”
I sat and revelled in the joy of mother/son love, knowing full well that the moment I ventured upstairs I would grit my teeth and swear under my breath at the devastation he had left in the kitchen and bathroom. Not even going to venture into his room.
Enjoy the moment is my motto.