Dylan Waiting – charocoal on rough watercolor paper
Sunday was Mother’s Day. I found myself digging through a file of old letters and cards, and found every card that my son had made me for Mother’s Day. I showed them to him, and he does not remember the early ones, but I do, like it was yesterday. It goes so fast. One minute they are cute little babies in your arms, and the next thing you know they’re playing beer pong. My son is now 18. I don’t know whether to encourage him to get better at beer pong or not. You see, the idea is that the losers have to drink more. This would entail playing often to get good at it. At least he tells me about it. He even asked me recently before a party, if I could suggest a better choice of alcohol to play with. I took the opportunity to educate/lecture him on the difference in using say vodka in the pong classes as opposed to beer (he doesn’t like beer)–IT’S MUCH STRONGER SON–and the meaning of the words ‘alcohol poisoning’. The next day when he came home I asked how the “beer” pong party went the night before. I was delighted when he wrinkled his nose and told me that vodka tastes like rubbing alcohol and now he doesn’t like it either. I wondered if he had gotton sick on it like he had gotten sick on the beer at the last beer pong party. He even broke blood vessels in his eye puking so hard. Bless his little heart. Nothing like a good healthy aversion to alcohol to cure you for life. It’s such a struggle, this tug o’ war, being a mother.
I have always had trouble painting portraits of my son for some reason. He promises to pose for his official portrait this summer, once he graduates and has more time between pong parties. The above is a drawing I did of him when he was about seven years old. And he did not exactly stand in that water for hours on end holding that pose. He actually was not in water at the time, but we were in a riverbed. I look at that drawing now, and think that the look of anticipation he has on his face is for when he grows up and can participate in pong parties. It could even be surmised that he hides ping pong balls behind his little back.