What goes around, comes around

Thomas is moving out soon. This, of course, may be of little significance, since a lot of times, I forget he even lives here. Thomas is the quiet one in the family: the only one who isn't a talker. Add this to the fact that he works evenings most of the time, then stays up most of the night, and we don't usually see him till dinnertime anyway.

On Sunday of Memorial weekend, we were sitting around, trying to figure out some plans for the next day. Whatever it was, Thomas mentioned that he couldn't do it, because he had to work the next day. Since he normally works day shift on weekends and holidays, I didn't think a thing about it. Noon the next day, who wanders into the living room but Thomas. "What are YOU doing here," I asked him. I was, of course, met with a look of "my mother is an idiot" from the heir to the throne, who merely responded, "uh, I live here." "Well, I thought you were working today." "I don't work till this evening," he said. Oh!

Mid-afternoon, Jill wanted to go to the movies, and as we were getting ready, Dan asked if Thomas was going. I said no, he was working 3-11. "Well," Dan said, "then why is his car here?" "Oh, dear Lord, he must've lost track of time," I said, and ran upstairs in a mild panic (see, I still kind of feel responsible, though I don't work there anymore). I said "What are you doing here?" The look of "I am the child of an idiot" came my way. "I told you, I work tonight." I slunk out of his room, feeling rather dumb that he must've been working at 4, not 3.

Off we went to the movies. We got home, and there he was, washing his car in the driveway. Well now I was SURE that he'd screwed up. Jumped out of the car and demanded "What are you doing here?" He just shook his head at me and looked away. "Seriously. What are you doing here?" He was till looking at me like I was an idiot when he told me that it was Monday, which means he didn't have to go in till 10. Yeah, all of these exchanges, and I never found out what time he actually was supposed to go in. Guess that would've been valuable information, since he goes in at different times on different days, but meantime, the boy is probably still shaking his head and wondering why the heck his mother keeps asking him what he is doing here. In his own home.

The answer? He lives here. But only till the 13th, after which time he'll probably answer the door at his apartment and ask me "what are you doing here?"