Growing teenaged boys are so like one-year-old Labradors. All feet, lanky legs and not sure what to do with it all. They run away, independently… but just “so far…” Then they come back, give you that wide-eyed hopeful look that says, “You still love me, right?”
This seems to be an era of “don’t hug me in public,” moments followed by “Mom can you help me with this? Can I talk with you? Can I just stand here and POKE YOU until you pay attention to me because I’m not THAT grown, yet!”
When they’re babies, people say, “Oh, they grow SO fast.” I thought that was just a sweet, sentimental thing people say. Looking back, it’s more of a prophecy… since my little men are insisting on doing this whole growing up thing.
I know that not long from now, they will grow into those big feet and lanky legs. They’ll have the confidence to run farther ahead, without needing to run back. But I’ll still be here for them. To talk too, offer advice and, yes, even let them tease me. That appears to be one of the thinks they (thankfully) refuse to grow out of.
This has been an actual conversation in the Man Cave. What’s the Man Cave? Read this.