The Little Man was looking over my shoulder at my farcebook feed, and commented it’s too memey on FB these days. Well, I don’t know where the cool kidz hang out, but between MeWe and the annoying but ubiquitous FB, my friends are all there where the memes are. He followed up his commentary on old people memes with a disarming request. Could I please buy Die Hard to watch at Christmas?
“Uh. Don’t we own that one already?”
“Nope,” he answered. “We did, but it’s gone.”
Ok. I navigate to Amazon because sure, I could probably pick it up at the local department store, but this is a whole lot easier. And he asked. “Could you please buy all the Die Hard movies? There are five, and we could watch one each Christmas until I move out.”
My heart melted. I told him to go take a shower. “Why, do I stink?”
“Yes. But it’s not you, it’s that you’re a teenager! And use soap!”
That last is a joke. He likes soap now. He likes it so much I have put my foot down and forbidden both Axe, and Old Spice because ugh, I’d rather sniff the teen boy funk. It’s just that he’s my baby. When he moves out, our nest will be empty. And although it’s four years in the future…
“You can watch the last Die Hard alone without me.”
“Nope. You have to come back home for that. Even if you’re moved out.”
“I’m going in the military!”
I know when he finally stretches his wings and soars off into the wild blue yonder it’s going to be hard on all of us. Sure, we make plans for what we’ll do with his bedroom when he’s gone – Office! Bookshelves! – but we’ll miss these moments.
And yes, we’ll be watching Die Hard at Christmas for the next few years. I think I’ll tuck the box set in his gear when he’s able to have his own place, though. For other Christmases. The world won’t end when he’s a man and grown. He still needs to shower every day, though. And use soap.