ya gotta love it.
It's almost midnight here in MSP. It's almost 1:00 a.m. in New York. My son, Zan, and I are emailing about ideas for Christmas gifts, my new computer, and plans for a week from now - when I return to New York with his sister for a bit of celebration for the holidays.
I'm on my sofa listening to "After the Love is Gone" by Earth, Wind, and Fire. He says he's in bed. (I asked him why he's up so late!)
We went back and forth a few times without ever picking up a phone, just exchanging thoughts. What was on NPR today? Where should we do dinner next week? What CD for his step-brother for Christmas? Not a whole lot more, but enough to make me smile.
I just signed my latest email, "xxoo, mom. Sleep well."
Ya gotta love email.
I'm on my sofa listening to "After the Love is Gone" by Earth, Wind, and Fire. He says he's in bed. (I asked him why he's up so late!)
We went back and forth a few times without ever picking up a phone, just exchanging thoughts. What was on NPR today? Where should we do dinner next week? What CD for his step-brother for Christmas? Not a whole lot more, but enough to make me smile.
I just signed my latest email, "xxoo, mom. Sleep well."
Ya gotta love email.
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