Twenty

Elder is now twenty years old. Well, twenty years and two days, actually.

For the last several weeks, Younger taunted, “Have you realized, Mom, that in just a few weeks, Elder will no longer be a teenager?”

Then late Monday night, when I texted that I loved and missed him while he traveled with his Dad, Younger responded, “Elder is 19 years 364 days, and 21 years old. Still love/miss me?”

Not quite as much.

The last day I had with my oldest as a teenager, he sprawled on the sofa with his head in my lap. “Stop petting my hair,” he told me, shaking his head so the curls fell back into place. “I’m not a dog.” But then after a moment, he offered, “You can scratch my back.”

“I thought you weren’t a dog,” I countered.

But I scratched his back.

And now Younger is the only teenager in our household.

Which he views as a position to be spoiled.

How did the years slip through greedy fingers? How did the tiny baby wrapped tightly in a blanket morph overnight into a grown man?

When exactly did I lose control?

Oh, yeah, I remember.

July 12, 1996.

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4 responses to “Twenty

  1. Oh. That made my insides ache. I’ve shed a tear every time he hits a milestone. He was my first little responsibility after I got married & then my son came to toddle along behind him. I saw him at WalMart right after he got out of school for the summer. Always so polite & tall & handsome. Yes, the years flew by so fast! Tell him Happy Birthday from me. Love you all!

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