Cabot's

I came home around 10:30pm from an evening out at Cabot's with my friends. Cabot's is a Newton institution, one that I've frequented in one capacity or another since grade school. It's something like a five-minute walk from my parents' house...

...which would lead you to believe that there would be no discussion about getting to Cabot's.

Dad: Where exactly is it? Before or after the laundromat?
A.: Right next to it, I think.
Mom: Do you want a ride?
A.: No.
Mom: You can't walk. I'll worry.
A.: It's right there.
Dad: It's cold.
A.: Not really.

***
Impressively, but not surprisingly, we all poured in within a minute or so of one another, by 7:30pm. It was a nice change from the some of the slackers I occasionally get together with in DC. Nothing like going out of your way to be somewhere on time when half the people you're meeting are half an hour late. But I digress. At about 10:30pm:

Mom: You were out late! I didn't know you were going to stay out so late.

I see these friends so rarely, especially all together. Would it be a stretch of the imagination to anticipate that I might be out for a while? I realized that mom probably called, so I checked my messages:

Mom: Where are you? I'm getting worried.

and

Mom: It's getting late. Why is your phone off? I don't understand.


My phone was off because (1) I tend not to answer my phone when I'm interacting with people in person and (2) as my mother knows, I left my charger in DC so I'm preserving battery life by turning my phone off when I'm not using it.

I guess I don't blame her for being concerned, although I don't think the concern had much basis in reality. I'm at an age where staying out until 10:30pm on a Saturday night shouldn't raise eyebrows.

I'll be at parties for the next two Saturday nights. I won't be surprised to come home from either of them to "where could you possibly be" messages on my voice mail.

***
Later

Mom: What did you get at Cabot's?
A.: Ice cream.
Mom: It took you that long to eat ice cream??

I can put away a large quantity of ice cream in seconds, actually; even the ginormous portions at Cabot's.

A.: No, it took that long for us to catch up.

I'm not sure why mom keeps asking me questions about the evening, and again, I can anticipate the content of some phone conversations over the next few weeks:

Mom: Where were you? I called you at 8pm on a Saturday!
A.: At a party, mom.
Mom: What kind of party?
A.: Just a party.
Mom: What kind of food did they have?
A.: Um... party food?

And so on. I'll let you know.