Home in one piece

Evan got home fine. He called his social worker who picked him up and found him a comfortable chair to sit in in the building, where he had to wait until the end of the day to get a ride home. He assured her that he did not need to call me. He said he already told me that she was getting him. That was almost true since we agreed that would be plan A.

He was famished. For some reason he feels uncomfortable eating at other people's house.

He had a good time, and came back with pictures of his brothers. He doesn't have a lot to say about it, but that is probably good.

So now we have twelve days to go. He learned with great excitement that the house might have a family for Christmas, but probably won't have anyone until early January. That means several weeks of being paid just to help keep the house running. He did not say, "and being trained." Sigh. I still wish he should half as much interest in the work he will be doing as he does in the traveling around Europe he plans, but I suppose this is normal for someone his age.

But we are in the home stretch. His social worker is taking us all out to dinner next Monday. Usually the kids and parents go to a big dinner party to celebrate graduation and Evan won't be around for that next May, so she wants to make sure that he feels his accomplishments have been appropriately celebrated by the agency. That's cool.