I woke up on Friday morning, May 20, to find a teenager in the bed my little boy used to sleep in.
This man-child is huge, with feet the size of scuba flippers, and--gulp--hairy legs! He is taller than me, and nearly as tall as his father. He has a smile the size of Texas with a heart even bigger than that. He is lean and muscular, hysterically funny and witty as all get out. He makes me laugh every day and continually delights me with his character, which I could not be prouder of.
I am so happy that this newly minted teenager still likes to hang out with me and his dad. He talks to us about all sorts of things and delights in telling us stories and dumb jokes. He wants us to see the things he thinks are funny and tell us about things that concern him. I hope and pray that he does not change in this regard.
He is a wonderful--though requisitely obnoxious and torturous--big brother to his six younger siblings, and sets a good example in honesty and integrity. He has chosen quality friends and is loyal and objective.
I can't believe that my little boy is officially a teenager. How did this happen? I blinked and he grew up. Now comes the fun part!