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Rated: E · Non-fiction · Biographical · #2297397
A couple of true stories about my son.
Not once has my son consulted with me, his favorite mom in the whole world, about his intention to grow older. I did the math, astonished he was just shy of half a century. He just turned 49 this month. In recognition of this milestone, I present my two favorite Jason memories.

When he was four years old, the GI Joe character was popular. You could buy anything and everything with the fictional character's picture. I was sucked into the buying frenzy. I purchased a pair of military green, camouflaged combat boots. They fit well and coordinated perfectly with his camouflage pants and GI Joe shirt.

One Saturday morning, I called him for breakfast and got no reply. It was not unusual for him to stay in bed as long as possible. He was not then, nor has ever been a morning person. I expected him to be in his bed with just the tip of his head exposed from under his blankets. I found his bedroom empty while taking note he would be cleaning his room for a long time. it was odd he was not in there.

"Jason!" I shouted getting no answer.

Finding him nowhere in the house, I returned to his room. I noticed his bedroom window curtain askew. I pulled it back and the sliding window was open with the screen lying on the front yard's grass. I looked up and there was my Jason, jumping up and down in a huge puddle, about the size of a mini lake. There had been a strong rainstorm overnight.

"Jason! What in the world are you doing? Are you in your brand new shoes?"

Hearing his name, he stopped jumping practically mid-air. His face fell as he knew he was caught. I waited while he walked sheepishly up the driveway. He stopped in front of me looking down at his muddy shoes, recently happily playing in the muddy water.

He raised his head looking at me with his dark brown eyes and stunning thick dark eyelashes.

“The other Jason did it," he explained.
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When he was 18, I took Jason to lunch at Denny’s, his favorite restaurant. He had his first job, moved out, and was living in an apartment complex that was popular with young people just starting out. I gave him my yellow Nissan truck so he had wheels. He was always busy with work and added a girlfriend to his new independent life. I surmised the only way to get time alone was to do lunch while his girlfriend was busy. There came a time she was working overtime. I took that opportunity to call and invite him to lunch.

He ordered, enough food to satisfy at least two people, and looked at me with the same expression as that day with the muddy shoes. Taking him out to eat was out of the ordinary. I made some superficial conversation until our meal was served. I sensed something was on his mind. He gave me an opening when he asked why we were having lunch alone. I told him I just wanted to have mother and son time that I had missed since he had moved out. He relaxed knowing that lunch came with no strings attached like one of my lectures perhaps about the pros and cons of going out into the big bad world. I asked him how his job was going.

"You know, Ma, it is going better than I expected. I mentored up two levels, attained the skill sets I needed to succeed, and just got a promotion."

When did my little boy learn all this business jargon? How did he know to get a mentor? How did he identify a need in the office to streamline the personnel list? An early computer whiz, he automated that list which then could be easily updated and disbursed to all employees. I was impressed and proud. Currently, he works for a software company in the posI was, am, and always will be proud of my son who jumped in a mud puddle in his brand new GI Joe shoes, and blamed it on an imaginary alter ego named Jason.
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