My son turned 33 on Friday. I told him I loved him, and I told him not to get crucified, because that's the kind of disrespectful lapsed Christian-type joke that he appreciates (and hence the title.) We both snickered. We're both probably going to hell.
He is wonderful. He is talented, creative, gentle, empathetic, kind, handsome. He sings, he writes radio plays. He writes songs for pantos. He is hard working, loving, and fannish. Oh, so very fannish.
(And yes, he's enraged and frustrated me over the years. What child hasn't done that to his or her mother?)
He is, quite simply, Andy. I love him, and I am so very lucky he is my son. This entry was originally posted at https://kaffyr.dreamwidth.org/679660.html?mode=reply, where there are currently
