Tonight I had dinner at one of my favorite places. At the back of the place is a little booth. Where, at age 5, we took the Future Rock Star out for dinner. His first "good restaurant". We sat there, in the back. He wore a double breasted off white linen blazer. Back when he actually wanted to dress like me. He ate a bowl of kids' spaghetti. Charmed the very cute waitress. Then slid over on his side and fell asleep with his head on my knee. A perfect evening.
Last night, I sat up all night. Waiting for dawn. Then, about eight in the morning, I started the car. And drove him to his first day of High School. My wife reminded me there are only four years left. Then he flies. My heart is crumbling. The bottle of very nice white Bordeaux I had tonight barely touched the pain. As I sat there. In the little booth. In the back.
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