Have I Told You Lately -- August 1991 (DONE)

It was the night before having to board for my first year at Hogwarts.  I enjoyed packing and listening to music.  As much as I would deny it, I was going to miss Mum and Lenni.  Despite the hard relationship we had, I still loved them.  I hear the song that Mum used to always have playing for me come on, so I turned it up really loud and kept packing.

I heard Dean turn up his music and I rolled my eyes.  I didn't want to fight on his last night home, but it really didn't need to be that loud.  I went upstairs to scold him and I heard what he was listening to.  I smiled and opened the door.  "How are we doing in here, Deano?" I asked him, resisting the urge to tell him tot urn it down right away.  I told myself that I needed to be more patient wiht him; he was just as stubborn as me and just as outspoken as his father.  Neither of which were a good combination.

I turned and grinned at my mum.  "I'm almost finished," I answered.  Then I realized my music was probably too loud.  "Oh sorry... need me to turn the music down?" I asked, moving closer to the radio.  I figured that was the real reason she came in here.

I shook my head.  "After this song perhaps," I told him, knowing that he may realize the song or my intentions.  But I also figured that he didn't really know the song... he probably just wanted it to be loud ot drown out any background noise.  He had been so young when I had been able to listen to this with him.  It was before he got any of his attitude... which I swear started when he was only five or so.

I smiled at my mum.  "Here..." I said, thinking about being nice.  I stood up from kneeling by my trunk and walked over to her.  I took my mum's hands and figured we could dance for the few remaining moments of the song.

I was very surprised by Dean right now.  The song ended and he turned the music down.  "Do you need any help packing?" I asked him.  I knew that he said he was nearly done, but I just didn't like how independent he was.  It made me kind of sad and feel old.

I shook my head, then my eyes lit up.  "We could always eat a piece of the chocolate pie," I said, wiggling my eyebrows at my mum.

The alternative motive for everything.  I laughed and said, "Only if you have everything packed and you're around for tomorrow morning.  Like clothes... anything you can think of that would make tomorrow morning run smoothly."  I figured that would be fair.  It was already getting kind of late... I didn't need him to be cranky tomorrow.

"Okay... if yu want to go get our pieces ready, I'll be down in five," I said excitedly to mum.  She left my room and I finished packign and got clothes around for tomorrow morning.  I went downstairs and saw that mum had the chocolate pie covered in ice cream, too.  I sat down at the bar in the kitchen with her.  "Thanks mum!" I said happily, taking a huge bite.  It tasted so good.

I grinned and said, "I suppose since you're leaving tomorrow you can be spoiled."  This pie was by far one of the best I have ever made.  We ate in silence and Dean surprisingly put the dishes in the sink.

Staying by the sink, I turned to look at my mum.  "Are you going to miss me at all while I'm gone at school?"  I asked.  I figured I already knew the answer:  not at all.

I looked over at my son and smiled.  "Believe it or not, I will," I told him.  I had a hard time thinking that he had to ask.  Yes we fought... but I was his mother.  Of course I would miss seeing him as often as I did now -- which was pretty much every day except when he holed up in his bedroom.

I was a bit skeptical.  "Are you sure?  Because I know I'm a pain... so I think you're just saying that to make me feel better," I countered.  I could so see her celebrating tomorrow night when she got home and I wasn't here.

I sighed.  "Honey... it'd be way too quiet with you gone.  Of course I'd miss you," I assured him.  I couldn't even believe we were having this conversation.  But it was Dean... he was an attention whore like his father - even if he tried to deny it.  He wanted to know that everyone would miss his presence.

"Alright... then ow about I write you at least once a week?" I suggested.  That would probably make her feel better.  And, to be honest, I would feel better as well.