My son is nearly 40. Yes, son, I'm saying that right here for everyone to read. Nearly 40. Last week he and six other football coaches stayed with me for three nights while attending a coaching clinic in town. And no, I don't have room for six big football coaches so this little house was wall to wall bedsm but they were totally wonderful and had tons of fun staying together. Kind of like an adult sleepover. :) Of course, it's not like a women sleepover where we would have slept two to a bed - each of them had to have his own bed because Heaven forbid they might touch briefly, accidentally somehow. Men!
Anyway, Friday night it started snowing. We were supposed to get a dusting and it turned into over 4" in places. I knew he was inside a large hotel in meetings and wouldn't see outside so I started texting him about how bad it was, how there were 10 car pileups between him and me, on and on.... When he finally got home he said it was awful driving in so I yelled at him - "I told you to come home!" His answer? "You never told me to come home Mama. You just told me how bad it was so I thought you meant to be careful". Yes, I said he's nearly 40.