"Mom? I've been thinking about getting a bearded dragon."
"Alrighty then. Why?"
"Because I just want one. They only get about two feet long. I could hold him and pet him, and ..."
Me: "Wait. Would you have to bring this thing home when you come visit?"
"Yes. I'd have to bring him home."
"Maybe your sister would let you keep him at her place. She doesn't mind creepy stuff. But no, you're not bringing him in here."
"Either a bearded dragon or a motorcycle that goes 160 miles an hour that I could run on the track at the Poconos. Did you know that you can run on their track..."
Me *blinking a little*: "I can see how you would be hard pressed to decide between the two of them...a bearded dragon or a motorcycle that goes 160 miles an hour. They're so close."
The long and the short of it is that he is a grown man who lives on his own, is self supporting and can do any darn thing his heart desires without his mama's permission. I think he just likes to get a rise out me. Just to make him happy, I began to complain. "Why can't you just get a motorcycle that goes an even 60-65 miles an hour. Why 160? And if you're going to be doing some dummy thing like running it at that kind of speed, why don't you just not tell me about it?"
"Mom!" he said indignantly. "I'd be sensible. I'd always wear a helmet. I'd never run at that speed on the road. I'm not stupid."
I said, "Really?!!!!" It was reassuring to hear this.
You know, some folk think that once their kids are adults, you no longer have to worry about them. Those folks must have a whole 'nuther kind of boy. Next time, I'm getting that kind.