Would somebody please stop the world for just a moment? Kthx.
My Rockstar is twelve. TWELVE. Am I really old enough to have a 12 year old?
Tonight we gave him a choice between going out to eat or me making fried chicken. He chose Mom’s Fried Chicken. Atta boy.
So I guess what he got for his birthday… a zit. But I promise that wasn’t my doing. No, we were like, Parents of the Week Month Year for giving him a skateboard. Hunky picked up some elbow and knee pads too, and I was like, Ahhh, he’ll use those for what? five minutes seconds? We might as well throw a $10 bill out the car window on the way home. Hunky put them back.
So I made this huge dinner; fried chicken, mashed taters, corn, biscuits, and chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, and I feel like a bloated tick. Then we told him his birth story, and we must’ve done ok, because both boys were laying on the floor laughing. I went through his baby book with him, too.
It’s just so hard for me to believe. He’s TWELVE. And what’s even harder to believe is that next year, he’s a teenager; then three years, he’s driving; then two years, he’s graduating. Holy time warp, Batman!
Feed reader peoples, please do me the honor of clicking through for pictures. In the lower right hand corner of the Pictobrowser, you’ll see Notes; hover for, guess what, ah, that’s right, Notes.
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