You know, I’m working really really REALLY HARD to not realize that he’s graduating in May, that he turns 18 in March, that he’s Practically A Grown Up and my parental control will not be near as controlling as I’d like it to be for my little boy forever and ever amen. I’m TRYING to put blinders on – but OH NO. He has to go and do things like… oh, brandish his new Class Ring all over the place.
It came in the mail last week, and the boy couldn’t be more pleased! Even so, I love how the photo of his hand describes so many things about my son. For example:
1. His hands are HUGE. They swallow mine, and I have big hands for a girl!
2. His hand is DIRTY. Dude. Could you BE more of a boy? Wash your hands!
3. He’s cracked his knuckle there on something, and in typical boy fashion, keeps picking at it. Srsly Boy? Gross. And also? WASH YOUR HANDS.
4. Look at all the nicks and scars – this boy is CLUMSY. Usually with sharp and pointy things.
5. Those hands are not just large, but strong, just as strong as the heart and mind of my PRESHUSH BEBE BOY. They are hands that he uses to help up a friend in need, hands he uses to help make something work that was broken, hands he uses to defend his friends, hands he uses to protect his sisters, hands he uses to console his poor mama who’s not handling this growing up thing very well.
Sigh. This growing up stuff sucks.