Piglet Grows A Beard, Or, Saturday Morning at 8:17am

And, just like that, my son has gone back to New Jersey. His sister picked him up and brought him to her apartment, my father is taking them both to the U.S. Open this weekend, his senior year starts soon. The boy is well taken care of.

I will miss him anyway. By the time he left his beard had grown in. Not quite the beard of a grown man, but getting terribly close.

Have a good year, Piglet. Your imperfect mom loves you, and promises not to call you Piglet in person, at least not when your friends are there, at least not more than once a night. Go you. Go you. Said by other generations, “Fare thee well.”

See you in December.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...


  • Sons capture our hearts early, don’t they!

  • This is a really off-the-wall comment, but your “Piglet grows a beard” title instantly brought to mind the phrase “Brimmer grows a goatee” from For Release Monday by the one and only Robert Benchley. (A Harvard grad, so I hope you approve.)
    –Road to Parnassus
    ‘How does an author work when he has been put in a strait-jacket by relatives? This question is answered by Germer C. Arsh, author of “Brimmer Grows a Goatee and Other Sonnets,” to be published in the Fall by the Aesophagus Press. “I just lie there and think very hard,” he says, “and pretty soon the book is written by my sister.”‘

  • Your boy sounds a great chap,my G/mama said boys were much easier to bring up than gels…not sure how she would have known…nannies/boarding school that was their fate.

    Happy weekend. Ida

  • Your post today is touching. You are sensible and doing the right thing, but do we mothers ever get used to the small farewells?

  • Wishing your son well in his final year of college. Go him!

  • My husband and two grown sons are at the Open and having a wonderful time!
    About sons growing up–I was amazed in June to see how very grown up our 28 year old son has become. It’s sobering.

  • My nephew showed up this weekend for the dorm move-in sporting a mustache.

  • I may have unknowingly passed them at the open!

  • Our nickname for my son, Blake is Pumpkin, a term of endearment.
    I still call him Pumpkin Pie at age 26 – but not around his friends or co-workers. Moms have a special spot in our grown sons hearts. Bravo to you Lisa, you have done well.

  • Piglet! I call Ammie Piglet, I do hope that I still remember to when she’s Big.

  • I love his nickname. Good for him, growing a beard before he needs to commit to it. It’s good to try these things out in school.

  • I hope you have something planned to help you adjust to your once-again empty nest this weekend. They’re lovely and clean and quiet, empty nests, but they can feel, well, empty, for those first few days again. But maybe you’re already out in the garden, harvesting all your tomatoes . . . Take care of yourself.

  • Bittersweet.

  • Like mater said I hope that you have something to keep you busy.
    Saying farewell to a son (or a daughter) makes a heart ache.

    Love that you call him piglet.
    We have a nickname for our son and once I blurted it out in front of his friends and he was so embarrassed.

    Hope the sun is shining in your garden today.

  • I love how restrained this is…you packed a large amount of emotion into a few words. I am leaving my daughter off for her sophomore year this weekend.

  • Watching our little boys become men does take one aback. I am still amazed. There are still times that he reminds me of my little boy and I love those moments. What has really been so wonderful for me is seeing how he loves his daughter. I am thinking of returning to blog world – private perhaps. Would you read? Xoxo

  • It must feel very different with him gone after being there Miss Privilege, I hope you receive extra hugs this weekend from those who love you.

  • Bittersweet…but no hairs left behind in the bathroom sink!

  • Piglet…cute and endearing…EXACTLY what he doesn’t want you to consider him…I bet.

    I named my eleven…going on twenty eight year old LFG…”Chinchilla Marie” last night. Don’t ask me why…it just came to me. And when I say it, it has a great roll. And she giggles. But only at home with me…NOT among her fellow six graders.

    Perhaps Piglet would enjoy calling you Prunella.


  • Valentine – That they do. On the other hand, so do daughters. Ah, babies.

    Parnassus – Fascinating. Not off the wall at all.

    Ida – Ha! I have found them each simple in some ways, complex in others, and downright difficult in yet others. No nannies except when I was at work, perhaps that complicated things:).

    Mette – Thank you. And I don’t know if we ever do. I really doubt it.

    Susan Tiner – Thank you Susan. I appreciate your good wishes.

    DocP – Ha! Mustaches! Love it.

  • Raulston – Are you there today? Look for a very tall man with white hair, a tall girl with red hair and her dark-haired blue-eyed brother:).

    Lori – I have called my children pumpkin too. Or punkins. Thank you very much. We mothers of adults don’t have ready-made communities. It’s very nice to have a group here to circle with.

    Peonies – Lovely. But Ella is not Pooh? I suppose that would be too twinnish:).

    Julia – I hadn’t thought of it that way but of course you are right.

    Mater – Cooking! I cooked all weekend:).

    Kathy – xox

  • Susan Daniels – Who did they see play?

    Hostess – I cooked pounds and pounds of meat:). We mothers are put on earth to embarrass our kids, no?:)

    Sue – Thank you very much. Does your daughter like her school?

    Preppy 101 – I would absolutely read. And would love to hear about your children and grandchildren.

    TPP – Thank you. I have company:).

    Terri – Oh yes there were. They are just short:). There’s always the hair on their heads, delicious when on, pervasive when off.

    ADG – Chinchilla Marie! Ha! I will tell Piglet he can call me Prunella if he likes. For now, he calls me Mother.

  • Just love those baby nicknames. They do cause intense embarrassment for some young men, but my Woolzit will always be that before Jules. I hope he has a wonderful last year; it’s different from the preceding three, is it not?

  • Love this. The last year of undergrad studies is also very bittersweet in it’s own way. The beard will surely come in come June.