Well, we have a teenager. Michael turned 13 on Sunday and he was quite excited about it. I don’t think he cared so much about the number but he was thrilled with his new basketball goal. Thank goodness Sean's folks were here to help us celebrate -- I don't think we could have gotten the goal put together without Chuck's help.
Sean’s aunt was also with us, which meant we got to hear the story of Sean setting her VW Bug on fire when he was two. Good thing it’s a good story, because we hear it a lot. A lot. It’s one of Sean’s favorite stories. He loved that Bug and he loves that Aunt. We also heard a run-down of all the cars Aunt Laurel has had. How Sean remembers all of them (makes, models AND colors) I will never know.
I’m ambivalent about having a teenager. There’s a great joy in watching Michael growing into a fine young man. But I don’t know how I feel about the announcement he made a few days before his birthday: “Just so you know, I only have five more years at home before I leave for college.” The thirteen years I’ve had with him have flown by. Having only five years left … those years will absolutely race by us, I fear.
I am ignoring the fact that his aging means I am, too. Just so you know.
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