Crazy Antics

Don't die of shock, but this is my second post in as many days.  It's because I promised in yesterday's entry that I would tell you about my son's "crazy antics".  So here's the story (contents may vary from reality):

Characters
Boy = my son
cyw = cute young woman
DH = dear husband
me = me

I may have mentioned that my DH and I have one child, a son, who is almost all growed up (they say your brain isn't fully mature until age 25 or thereabouts, so Boy still has a couple years to go).   Over the last year and a half, Boy has lost 70 pounds and developed quite a fit and healthy body and lifestyle.  He has educated himself in the fields of weightlifting, interval training and nutrition.  (My friends who meet him tell me later that they think he's hot.  What is the next level up from cougar?  Lioness?  Saber-tooth?)  Near the beginning of his make-over, he and his girlfriend of four and a half years split up.  Now he's enjoying having a nice body and figuring out the woman thing.

Boy came home for Thanksgiving break, and while he was in town attended a party at a friend's house.  Before he left, he considerately told us that there was a slight chance he might stay the night.  You never know how these things can end up.  We asked him to text us to let us know if that's what he ended up doing.

The next morning DH finds a text message left at 5:30 a.m.:  I'm staying the night.

Well, duh.

Boy rolls in that morning, maybe around 9, a little disheveled and with purplish spots on the sleeve of his white thermal pullover and a smile on his face.

DH:  Got your 5:30 message.  We sort of thought you might let us know earlier, like when you decided to stay.

Boy:  That IS when I decided to stay.

DH: Oh.

me: So how was it?

(I should interject here that we and Boy have a pretty good relationship, so we fully expected all the details.)

Boy:  It was good, a lot of fun actually.  (He told us about the friends from high school who were there, and how fun it was catching up with them)  Wearing this white shirt was a smart move.

me: *smirk*

DH:  Why's that?

Boy: Yep.  The ladies liked it.  *rubs hand over pecs to emphasize form-fitting nature of shirt*

DH:  Oh?

Boy:  At one point I was sitting on the couch, surrounded by women.  It was a good party.

me: I can tell by your elbow.

Boy: *looks at purple dots on sleeve*  That's wine.  I didn't have any, but I did get spilled on.  *leans back against the kitchen counter and grimaces in pain*  I think I might have broken a rib, though.

DH and me:  What?  Seriously?

Boy: Seriously.  If I didn't break it, then bruised, maybe.  It hurts pretty bad.

DH:  What happened?

me:  Were you wrestling?

(Okay, you have to understand here.  Before he went to college, Boy and his friends would hang out here and inevitably they would get a little physical.   So one part of my brain, at least, was still thinking in terms of "party = friends = rough-housing."  I clearly hadn't had enough coffee yet.)

Boy: Well, not really. *smiles mischievously*  (Like his father, he likes to draw out the story)

me:  Augh.  Just tell us.

Boy:  Well, I got to talking with cyw, and we sort of flirted, and then we ended up in the back room.


~~~~~  I'm going to stop here.  Will continue the story in the next post! ~~~~~~~~~~

Oh! I tried to find a picture of a muscular man in a tight white thermal shirt.  Here's what I got: