Good Grief
“Tom?” It was my mom, poking her head around my bedroom door, interrupting my studying. “Tom, ok if we talk for a few minutes?” It was a quiet Saturday at our house and my weekend routine usually involved some of my uni studies. “Sure, what’s up?” Glancing over her shoulder to the hall outside my room and quietly closing the door mom walked over to my desk, glanced around, and sat on my bed next to it. “You’ve got a party on Friday night, right?” “Well, yes and no; it’s actually a mixer, mom. There aren’t many girls in engineering at the university so we’ve invited a bunch of girls from the education faculty to the mixer. So guys can actually meet some girls, you know?” “Ok, now I understand. You’re going, right?” “Sure. Not …