Chad and I were called on the floor for the traditional mother son dance, and that was all it took. I started snotting and slobbering all over his pretty tux. "You're all I've ever wanted in a son," I sob as I wipe my nose on his lapel.
"You're the best mother I've ever had," he answers as he tries to back away. I cling to him like a leech.
"I'm so proud of you," I'm wailing now.
"I never knew this song was so long," he mutters.
We take a few turns as I try to get myself under control. "You know, Mama, I'm not dead, right? Just married?"
I sniffle and nod miserably.
"You'll even be able to see me once in a while." He and The One That Stole My Baby live 23 miles away. "Like every six months or so."
Pfft. That girl don't cook. He'll come home when he runs out of Ramen.
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