Son~"Yup. All ready. Totally packed. See ya."
Me~"Wait. Where's your luggage?"
Son~"Right here. (referring to fanny pack around his waist) See ya."
Me~"Wait. Give me a rundown of what you packed."
Son~"All the stuff I was supposed to. See ya."
Me~"Wait. Specifics. Where's your pillow?"
Son~"I don't need one. I can roll up the edge of my sleeping bag and it'll be fine. See ya."
Me~(eyeroll)~"Wait. You want to go the entire week with your head flat on the...never mind. Idiot. Did you pack your swimsuit?"
Son~"Yeah. I mean no. I have these shorts. It'll be fine. See ya."
Me~"Wait. Dear, you're going to Lake Powell...on a house boat...that's a floating house, because it's sitting on a body of water."
Son~(eyeroll)~"Okay. Geez. I'll pack it. Done. See ya."
Me~"Wait. How about underwear?"
Son~"Yeah. I mean...yeah I did. See ya."
Me (sensing a sin of omission)~"Wait. How many?"
Son (smearing his lips while he spoke)~"mphonemph. See ya."
Me~"Wait. What? Did you say one?"
Son~(eyeroll)~"Mom, it's a bunch of guyeeeees."
Me~(eyeroll eyeroll eyeroll)~"Oh. my. he$%. Are you kidding me? They're probably the pair you're wearing. (they were) Go get more. NOW!"
Son~"Okay. Geez. See ya." (shoves one (1) more pair into side pocket)
When I mentioned to Sterling that I had to fight his son to bring an extra pair of boxers, husband's reply was this~
"Well, he'll be singing praises to Sweet Jesus and his mother, won't he now, when he sharts his first pair."
And that right there is why I love my husband.
*Shart~intention to force a flatulent, (fart) without realizing there is more to it than meets the eye, (diarrhea) resulting in "sharting" one's pants. Also known as a G.A.L., or "gambled and lost."