Oh yes, Mr. Wolfe; You can go home again.

In a few days #1 son will be returning home for March break. This will be preceded by the typical minimum standard of culinary preparation he is accustomed to upon his return: brownies, his personal signature favourite; cookies, several dozen, of at least two varieties; muffins, baked in advance and frozen, so a different variety can be warmed a la moment in case the craving hits; brisket, made a day in advance and served on arrival- au point; a variety of legumes, to act as non-meat protein alternatives, for mid afternoon snacking which will be consumed on an as needed basis; all washed down with a boutique brew or three, local brewmasters preferred.

This prattle poorly disguises the undeniable glee that surrounds his imminent return. It's a sentimental one for him I suspect: it being his last one as a university undergraduate. When he returns again in a couple of months it will be as a university graduate. That's a scary crucible of expectations for him. That's an off ramp of sorts for me.
I am looking forward to an evolving relationship with an evolving adult. He has, of course, changed in four years. I'm not sure I've changed enough to keep up.

Since he will be back in the fold for at least the next year, we will have a chance to create the ebb and flow that is the dialogue of relationship. To quote Katsumoto from The Last Samurai: (read in heavily accented Japanese accent) He, will introduce himself. I, will introduce myself. We have conversation.
It will stand on the shoulders of twenty one years with the dearest, finest son a mother could dream of.

Stay tuned for tales of the girl child.