I was sitting here watching Picasso beat himself up over spending money he earned shooting a wedding and felt something so similar to déjà vu it scared me.  He is so much like me it is frightening. His phone was the victim of one of his brother’s rages, so we have been sharing mine until I could come up with the money to get him a replacement, but he was able to go get himself a nice phone. Then he got mad at himself for spending that much on a phone when he has school starting and has fees, etc. due soon. I applauded him buying the phone for himself, I feel he earned it, he wanted it so boom. Unfortunately he inherited his mother’s worry gene. All he could see was all the other things he could have, should have done with the money. He finally agreed, 3 days later to keep the phone after I explained how he could write it off as a business expense when he files his first income tax forms next year. Nothing warms that kid’s heart like the chance to save some money.

As I sat and looked at him I thought to myself,” Self, someday this dude will make some lucky wench a damn good husband”.  He is frugal, isn’t embarrassed to shop with coupons or buy feminine hygiene products (long story short I was across town when his younger sis needed some supplies brought to her at school, he went and bought them ,took them and a change of clothes to her without hesitation), he can cook a gourmet meal, will wash the dishes after and makes a mean caramel frappachino. Couple all this in with the fact he is a good looking kid, with freakishly broad shoulders and a heart of gold, and the whole jerk thing he brings out on special occasions is tolerable.  I am totally open to him meeting some lucky woman and bringing her home to meet dear ole mom. I promise not to do what I did to his high school girlfriend the day I met her. In all fairness this chick called me MOM, not 10 minutes after meeting me. Nice way to make me hate you instantly little gal. Since then I have caught snippets of phone calls, seen cryptic FB posts and financed outings that involved a female ‘friend’ but he hasn’t brought another one home to meet me. Weird right?

I thought for a while  his best friend and he would finally decide they were meant for each other but  then he told me he doesn’t see her as a female, just as Jenni. She was pissed to find out he didn’t at least think she was cute but he took her to lunch and she stopped complaining. Obviously he is smarter and more astute than I give him credit for. Poor girl has gold digger written all over her. I kid, I kid, she knows I still love her and will accept her little caramel colored babies as my Grands, unless they are bad, then all bets are off. He is surrounded by beautiful women of every size and hue daily and he doesn’t bat an eye. They flirt with him and play the helpless damsel around him not knowing he needs someone who doesn’t need him. He likes confidence and not helplessness, I almost want to tell them but I enjoy watching them fawn over him.

 Someday the right one will magically appear, she will make a mean pork adobo, roll lumpia in her sleep, be able to make tamales from scratch and know what bacon candies the best. She will know basic camera crap,at least enough to feign interest when he goes off on a tangent about lighting, lens and other camera stuff that makes my brain numb, she will understand exactly what to do for him when his eczema takes over his whole body and has him bedridden for days on end and will be happy to overlook the fact he has a weird hate of feet so her sandal collection is totally off limits around him, she will learn to love socks as much as he does. If she can meet these baseline reqs she just might have a chance of passing the ole Mom test, maybe. Even so I will still have to show her a teensy bit of the crazy lurking within me so she knows not to ever hurt my baby. Crazy, over protective mom aside she will still be damn lucky to have him.

Of course all this depends on if he changes his mind about marriage and his inherent distrust in the whole process. Once again, Mom genes.