The Teens Who Ate New York

Son #4 turned 13 today. It is official: I am the mother of four teenagers.

His fondest wish was to visit NYC, and there is no way I could ever argue with that, so today Hubby drove Son #3 and Son #4 to The Big Apple. They have called about once an hour, with updates, most memorably:

Son #4 is asleep
New Jersey smells terrible

Now they have arrived, and in addition to calling, they are sending me photos. So far I have seen the fabulous pizza they are eating (they also called so I could hear them chewing) and the black-and-white cookies for afters.

The pizza guy gave Son #4 his cookie, for free, when he heard it was his birthday. So, you know, this birthday trip is going to be a total bargain.

I have put the remains of Son #4's birthday cake in the freezer, mostly so I will not eat it. Instead, I am having carrots. Because I don't feel like cooking, and Sons #1 and 2 have already had dinner, out.

The house is almost silent, almost clean, and I am working on my 2nd article of the day.

It is disconcertingly peaceful and productive over here.