It started out like any other Sunday morning. I was dehydrated, still wearing last night’s smeared mascara, and suffering from an insatiable craving for Bagel Gourmet. I was dreaming of chive cream cheese when I was suddenly interrupted by a phone call.
Now this was the first sign that something was amiss. The only person who calls me is my mom, but it was definitely a few hours before her morning Pilates class on the west coast. I heroically sprung out of bed to pick up the phone before my angelic roommate was awakened by the Marimba ringtone. Of course that was a ridiculous thing to do for a couple of reasons. 1) Marimba is a very soothing ringtone. 2) My roommate had departed for her morning run over an hour ago. 3) My body nearly broke in half from attempting such an athletic maneuver after a night of dropping it low and a semester of avoiding the gym.
Anyway, when I finally picked up the phone, I was completely shocked.
My son was getting married.
Wait, whaaaaat?
This was certainly some surprising news. I always morbidly fantasized about being reunited with a long lost son, but I thought I would at least know about him. I haven’t taken biology since freshman year of high school, but still I think I would at least vaguely remember if I gave birth. I certainly would have remembered the epidural. I’m not into needles, but my mom said being numb af was fairly dope.
So as it turns out, I do not, in fact, have a biological son. Rather, one of my theater pals was getting married for real (kinda) in the PW Upspace, and he wanted me to play the role of mother of the groom. Well, one of the grooms. Groom #1. Mama didn’t raise a #2. We’re winners in this family, kid.
Even though he wasn’t my biological son, I still took my role very seriously. It was quite overwhelming to find out I had a son in the morning, only to walk him down the aisle at his wedding a mere 7 hours later. I had so much mothering to fit in that short time window. How was I supposed to inflict him with an entire childhood’s worth of emotional damage before the ceremony that evening? I decided the Birds and Bees would have to suffice.
Maybe it was the sparkling lemonade talking, but I found myself overcome with emotion as I left my son at the altar. Even though I only raised him for a couple of hours, I was so proud to see my son entering a new stage of his life. I just hope he still calls home every once in a while to check in on his old mom.
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