I hope you’ve been watching some of the Olympics, as they’re such great entertainment.  I know a lot of people pooh pooh the games, but for me there’s nothing as exciting as a closely-fought race, followed by a tear-filled stand on the podium with the national anthem playing.

I sob right along with each and every athlete and their mom in the stands.  I don’t know why, but I find the Olympic games highly dramatic theatre.  Of course I hate the Olympic committee as much as everyone else, but I don’t think you can overstate the feelings of exhilaration, pride and astonishment at the performances of the athletes.

In the longer races, whether running, swimming, or whatever, there is a dude who rings a big old bell when they’re in the final lap.  I don’t have the actual dude with the bell here, but I do hear it ringing in the back of my mind.

And that’s because Nicky got the job!  Yes, he’s going to be starting at the end of this month.  He’ll be trained here for a few weeks, and then, get this: he is being sent to Vancouver!

It’s shocking, but he’s been hired as a Project Manager for Telus!  The money is staggering, and will cause all manner of insane spending, but as I observed with Luke, it does settle down after a few years.

The other day when he was out I went downstairs and lay on his bed.  I looked around at the dreck in his room, and started to plan the redecoration.  The bed’ll look much better in the centre, with night tables on each side.  Of course I need a bunch of art for the walls.

Then when he comes home next, he’ll skip into his room and go, “Wha??” The room will be all pink and floral with fuzzy wuzzy curtains and pillows and so on.  I’ll act surprised, as though I have no idea why he’s confused.  “But darling, this is the guest room now,” I’ll purr solicitously.

It’s what we Boomers must do, and I’m not alone in this quest as you well know.  Alison spent the month of June shopping at Ikea and moving furniture like mad to get her youngest settled outside of his old bedroom.

My friend Beverly cancelled her visit last weekend, and apologized by saying her son has a job in Williams Lake and they wanted to get him launched.  When Boomers say they can’t do something due to needing to launch a kid, trust me, no-one who’s in the know crosses them on that.

We all hold hands and sing kumbaya whenever any of us gets one of our offspring out of their bedrooms.  It’s one of the most serious goals of the Boomer generation.

So now I’m all smug, having launched 100% of my brood.  Alison calls it “Freedom 58” (our ages) and I like that.