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Will frequently does things his own way since he moved out almost two years ago. He often does not eat until 9:00 o’clock at night. His diet is substantially lacking in produce. He drives a 14-year-old car. And there is nothing I can do about it except razz him a little. And he says to me, gently, “Mom, I am going to do what I want to do.” and “Are you going to buy me a car? No? Then I will keep driving this one.”

He’s independent. It does my heart good.

He still needs help and encouragement from time to time. I did at his age, too. He panicked last week when he locked his keys in the car while it was running. He tried to call to ask us to drive 70 miles to rescue him. Providentially, he couldn’t get ahold of Ralph or me, so he called his sister, Patty. She suggested that he go to the apartment  complex office and borrow a key to get into his apartment to get his extra set of keys.

He amazes me, as well. Last night I called to ask him if he was watching the opening ceremonies of the Olympics. He sounded busy, but he said he could talk as soon as he finished making his home made tortillas. (at 9:00 o’clock at night.)

“Really? You’re making tortillas from scratch?” I said.

“Well, I was making tacos last week, and I realized I didn’t have any tortillas, so I googled the recipe on the internet.”

“How do you like them?”

“They taste much better than the tortillas I buy at the store and are easy to make. I am making these from now on.” He said.

This is my boy who could barely make a grilled cheese sandwich before he left home. The first few weekends in his apartment, Ralph showed him how to make spaghetti, barbecue, and chili, and they packed meal sized portions for the freezer.  Will has been cooking all of these since he started living on his own. He does more once a month cooking than I ever did. I have never made tortillas either.  Last year he asked for a rice cooker for Christmas, and a hand mixer for his birthday. This year he would like a large frying pan or pot with  own lid for his birthday. He is quite a cook.

When we go to visit him next weekend for his birthday, I’ll bring the pan with lid.  He also asked me to make chicken and dumplings for his birthday meal. He listed the spices in his cupboard and asked if he had everything he needed. He is going to buy the other ingredients, too. He just wants me to make it.  That does my heart good, too.