Reflections on my Man-child
4 December 2009
Sarge is a teen, but I think it is just setting in for me. I was chided recently, “We don’t have play dates mom, we hang out.” Nerf guns and playing war is a thing of the past, now we have air soft and paint ball and the game of war looks much more real. (And yes, they show me bruises and welts and tell me how awesome their war games are.)
His tow headed friends with sweet little voices have grown taller than me and resemble men more than children. Their voices have either dropped or are in the process. They eat like ponies and they are like puppies with lots of strength but little control as they wrestle and goof off.
Somewhere along the way, my sweet little boy has turned into something that resembles a man. Sigh.
