Had dinner with my folks tonight. As we left, my mom said, "We never see you." Nights like this seem to illustrate why.

Mom called me this afternoon, asking me to meet them at Chili's after they went to Mass. I got there about 6:10, with them waiting for me to get there and put in my order. Thankfully, they had a Miller Lite waiting for me. I wasn't in the best of moods; I was in another one of my "woe is me, no one will hang out tonight" phases. But soon after I got there, I got a bit of a smile on my face. (Seeing UT pull ahead of Florida Atlantic helped.) Then, my dad said something that I didn't quite expect.

"We're expecting to be grandparents when we turn 65."

During my twenties, I didn't hear any of this sort of talk. Maybe a little when I was dating the ex who shall not be named, but only because of lack of serious girlfriends I'd had up to that point. (They said that they gave her a cheap rate on rent because they thought she would become their daughter-in-law.) But these sorts of hints have been dropped more often. I joked that they were going to install a "24"-esque countdown timer in my condo.

I told them about how I ended things with the Cougar, they told me about how they wanted to intorduce me to a Bolivian (or Peruvian, or Venezualan, I'm not sure) woman who would "put her husband first." My dad also told me about his hobby of inquiring about the marital status of waitresses when my folks go out to eat.

"I see you marrying either someone quite a bit younger than you, or just a little older," he said. Good thing I live a stone's throw away from a college campus.

Now, all of a sudden, I have a biological clock. I only hope I don't go crazy about it like that countdown like I did the countdown to my thirties. (FYI- my folks turned 61 in June. 47 months to go...)