I am a storyteller. I know that isn’t much of a surprise. After all, that is a pretty basic requirement as a writer. But, I tend to talk like I write. When I share, it is full of detail because that is the essence of an excellent story. A quality that seems to annoy some people. Cue the middle finger, because I am not going to change who I am.
Anyway, Bailey seems to have inherited that trait. His elaborate stories can be hard to follow, due to his speech issues, but last night, every detail was clear. I am not sure how our conversation drifted into the topic of purchasing real estate, but Bailey pipes in with the news that his best friend’s mom has bought them a house. She is a generous person, but I am willing to bet that she is unaware of this “purchase”.
Sam’s family moved into a house down the street from us, and the two of them have been the best of friends for over twenty-two years. So, now they are talking about living on their own. It is their dream, and one, that will happen, eventually, but not today. When I shared with him that I don’t think that a home was actually purchased, he accused me of not wanting him to leave. I laughed and laughed because that is simply not true. My dream when I gave birth was for both of my boys to eventually leave. Yes, I had other dreams for them, but vacating my home was on the top of the list. Cut the cord. Adios. Bye, Felicia! I think you get my gist. He just has a few kinks to still work out before we are ready to shove him out the door.
I admire his storytelling ability. It was riveting and amusing, which I am sure was not his intent. He was annoyed at our reaction, but, honestly, that is pretty much par for the course. Probably one of the reasons he is anxious to leave. And when the time is right, I will help him pack. Until then, I will listen to his stories that, someday, will become reality.