"Becca and I broke up weeks ago," he tells me. I confess that I've been stood up by the guy I met online, his wife moved back in. I wear my red dress underneath my robe. My son helped me shop for it, I tried on dozens of dresses, and he was so sweet to give me his opinion, as a young man with an eye for what men like. I shrug my shoulders and laugh about the ordeal, "guess, I'll have to return the dress." My son's eyes light up with excitement, "why don't we go out together?" I suppose that will be alright, as long as he doesn't mind going out to a posh restaurant with his mother, and he assures me that I am not just any mother, he stands me up and twirls me around in front of the mirror. My son has a very special way to make me feel wanted and beautiful.