"Got my stimmy!" Carol heard her son shout as she walked out of the kitchen and through their living area.
"Stimmy?" Carol asked with a laugh.
"Stimulus check. Fourteen hundred big ones!" he answered, waving the envelope in his mom's direction.
"Yeah, I figured it out. Just kind of sounds wrong."
"Why? Stimulus. Stimmmulus. Stim. Stimmy."
"Again, I get it. But it kind of sounds like," she paused and twisted her mouth, "a stiffy."
"Aw gross Mom. How do you even know that word?"
"Your generation isn't the only one that makes up words. Heck, you didn't even make up most of your made up words."
"No, I just kind of thought that's something guys say to mock each other."
"Yeah, boys don't have some secret code. Women can mock stiffies too. You know, like, sounds like you got a stiffy for that stimmy. Didn't even earn that stimmy but you're stimulated to a stiffy."
"Gross Mom. Go back to whatever old person thing you were doing."
Carol chuckled and went up to her office. She knew his age jokes were just jokes. She was a pretty young mom - at the same age her son was shouting about a "stimmy," she was pushing him out of her vagina. She was glad he was still immature; her daughter was three years younger but already felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her husband was the same way: years of the grind had left him barely a pulp, and perhaps their daughter subconsciously took after him. Carol thought to that racist, sexist meme of the stick figure husband doing everything to provide for his wife then she cheats because he didn't meet her emotional needs. Despicable as that meme was, the description was not inaccurate, except Carol would never cheat and she understood her husband's side of things. But their son did not understand the reality of the world yet, which was probably why he was closer to Carol than to his dad. Her husband couldn't handle the youthful exuberance, not as worn down as he was.
Their son really was a good kid, well good man now. Carol thought he'd find his maturity when he started working, but thanks to coronavirus he had spent less than a month in an office. Good, she thought. While so many people were losing family members, at least her son got an extra year of childhood. Her daughter, who hadn't been a child in years, was back at college and her husband was back in the office three to four, sometimes five, days a week. So coronavirus also meant more time together with her son than ever, even more than when she was on maternity leave with him. His work was full-time remote, while Carol went to the office for two hours every other Tuesday for payroll and a few more hours every Friday for receivables.
There was not a better person to spend quarantine with. Perhaps when her husband finally retired, some of the man she married would come back, but for now, her son was the only person she loved so much and could spend so much time with. He was handsome and a bit of a flirt, but wholly appropriate and respectful. His masculinity was never toxic and always fun. Carol knew because they had lightly flirted since he was in high school. The flirting was never sexual - so was it really flirting? - but just fun, loving. In fact, her joke about stimmy and stiffy was the most sexual thing one had ever said to the other.
A few days later, Carol heard a delivery and went to bring in the package. She tried to lift the box, but it wouldn't budge. She saw her son's name on the sticker. "Son," she called into the house, "Why did you order lead bricks? Could you come get this?"
He was already coming toward the door, excited for his package. "That's my new dumbell set," he beamed.
"Why would you waste money on something expensive like weights? Aren't you saving for an apartment?"
"It's stimmy money, mom, I'm supposed to spend it," he reminded her as he lifted the box.
Carol grabbed the flexed muscle on her son's arm. "Doesn't seem to me like you need weights, though," she said, giving him a squeeze.
"Well I haven't played sports in a year and these guns won't stay so impressive if I stay inside much longer."
"Oh sure," Carol teased. "Seems more like you're looking for a girl to spend that stimmy on."
"Always, but you know 'rona dates are dumb."
"No, haven't had a ''rona date.' Married people don't waste their stimmies or go looking for stiffies."
"Yuck, you and the stiffies. And I am definitely not looking for one of those."
"Just looking to get one."
"Oh my God, Mom, I'm taking my weights and going back to work."
"Better be work and not finding more ways to waste that stimmy," she called as he walked off.
The exchange gave Carol an idea. If her son wasn't active enough, and her husband was so drained all the time, maybe they should go for a hike that weekend. She brought up the idea at dinner.
"I don't know, Carol," her husband said. "We're all tired after a long week, you really think we'll be able to enjoy being on our feet more?"
"Of course, fresh air, family time, get our blood flowing. We'll have fun and it'll be good for us."
"Whatever," her son cheerfully responded. "If you guys want me to come, I'll come."
Her husband still objected. "I really don't think we're going to be in the mood," he said.
"Come on, we used to love family hikes."
"I don't remember that," her son said.
"It was a long time ago," her husband answered, as much to inform their son as to object to his wife.
"It was, but life got busy, but finally it's not so busy now," Carol said in a last attempt.
Her husband again objected so Carol let the issue rest for a few hours. But she couldn't help but bring up the idea again later, thinking that some time in nature would be good for each of them individually and the family as a whole. But instead, the discussion lead to a fight - you know how tired I am, what was fun 15 years ago isn't fun now, it's not really family time with our daughter at school, how can something tiring make me less tired. Carol had avoided fights for the last few years in an effort to keep her husband's life bearable, but this time she felt she was fighting for him. But there was no end to be won; they went to bed angry without any resolution.
Carol gave up on her husband joining for a hike, but that Friday before leaving for her office, she poked her head into her son's room. "Your father can't go hiking this weekend," she said, "but would you still come with me tomorrow?"
"Yeah, sure. Not much else to do."
"Well that's a way to make a mom feel special. But I'll take it, at least someone will go with me."
"Sorry, Mom. It'll be fun, I'm sure."
"Better," she teased, and left for the office.
The weather on Saturday was surprisingly pleasant, one of the first days of spring that almost seemed like a day of summer. Carol chose a secluded trail, but still worried that stir crazy hikers would overrun her afternoon. She hadn't been to that trail since the kids were in elementary school, and the world had gotten a lot more crowded since then. Fortunately, that trail had not gotten more popular. The trail was about two miles and led to a man-made lake, but that same lake could be accessed from a 5-minute walk from a parking lot, hence the trail's lack of patrons.
The hike out was mostly quiet. The trail was more narrow than Carol remembered, and both had worn shorts, so at times they had to walk single file to avoid possible poison oak. When Carol had first put on her shorts that morning, she noted that she hadn't shown so much leg in public in years. Now with her blue shorts and white tank top, she worried that one encounter with the wrong plant could cover her body in a rash. At least her son was mostly covered, with sleeves to his elbows and shorts past his knees.
"Whoa, there's a lake here?" Carol's son exclaimed as they neared the end of the trail.
"Yeah, it's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, hoping to see a softer side of her son. She surveyed the lake and noticed that the beach's closure had mostly deterred visitors, even on the year's first day of great weather. There were scattered individuals and couples, and only one group, a group of young bikini-clad women.
"We should have brought swimsuits," came the response. Carol looked up and saw her son attempting to ogle the group of girls, even though they were too far to really make anything out.
As they kept walking, Carol noticed her son continuing to try to get glimpses of the girls. At one point he said, "Man, why didn't you tell me? We could have had a hike and a beach day!"
"Do you really care about a beach day," she asked, "or are you just wishing you could go hit on those girls?"
"I mean, I'm not saying I wouldn't, but swimming could have been fun too."
"Yeah, don't think I don't know young men. You'd be all over them. But I know women too, those girls would eat you alive."
"Don't be silly, Mom, I know women."
What naivete, Carol thought. "Ha, no you don't. Those girls would have squeezed the stimmy out of you then left you to take care of your stiffy."
"Mom, what is with you and the stiffies? It's weird."
"Just 'cause I'm your mom doesn't mean I can't enjoy a crass joke."
