For the record, that is NOT his kid. Unless he's holding out on me. I haven't really summoned the nerve to ask.
Brian seems to be doing very well. I have access to him, and he answers the phone when I call, which is probably too often for his comfort. When I do call, he often has to put me off, to tell me he'll call later, he's busy with friends.
As it should be. At least he answers.
He seems to be liking Fort Benning. His biggest surprise, from what I hear, is that the Physical Training is much tougher there than bootcamp was. There have been days when he had to run 1,000 miles, with 5 other guys, all of them holding a raft containing 2 other men over their heads.
It's all true but the 1,o00 miles. It's some miles though, in Georgia heat, and he's wringing out his clothes every morning.
I'm not sure what he's studying, though his friend (and my new roommate) tells me bits about what he hears. It sounds exciting.
He received his first promotion last week, for this I am bursting with pride.
He is an upstanding citizen, a pillar of the Fort Benning community.
John, after answering his cell phone tonight, called to me "Hey, Brian's wasted!!!"
I raced over to John and yanked that phone out of his hands while he frantically tried to warn Brian "she's coming, she's coming, she's taking the ph...."
Me: How are you?
Brian: Fine, Mom.
Me: Repeat after me: She sells seashells by the seashore.
Brian: NEGATIVE, SIR! HOOAH!
Me: Stand on one foot, close your eyes, and put your finger to your nose.
Brian: I'm doing the foot thing, Mom, but I have the phone in one hand and a beer in the other.
Me: You're not driving, are you?
Brian: No, mom. I'm not driving. I'm staying here for the night.
Me: Sleep face down, will ya?
As an upstanding parent, hellbent on keeping my kid from smoking, drinking, and any other number of things, there's one thing I figured out.
IF YOU CAN'T BEAT 'EM, JOIN 'EM.
Shoutout to my buddy Standish: You think that Tequila's bad...go for a 3-olive martini, boy. Oh. And take care 'o my kid. I love you too.