When mom is an erotic romance writer

Three months ago, my oldest son flew the family nest after a job change. It was time, and we were all okay with his decision. He now lives in the city, where he’s trying to make friends–

Read that, lady friends.

I don’t ask about his methodology, but from reading between the lines, I gather he hopes to statistically increase his chances of empirical success by the random sampling of a large quantity of subjects.

Read that, he’s going through these babes like water goes through a sieve.

Tonight, he’s seeing someone for the second time. I wished him good luck. This is not to be confused with “get lucky”. I’m his mother; I would never say such a thing. Think it, yes. Verbalize it, no.

He emailed me back, telling me he would need all the luck he could get, as she was a really good “Caliber 2”.

Folks, I won’t tell you what I thought. Suffice it to say, it was a thought no mother should ever have about one of her adult male children.

Turned out, the kid and the young lady are gaming tonight, and that was the name of the Playstation martial arts video.

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