15 today.
I thought I would have a really hard time with his turning 15.
15 seems to be the age at which you are a real teenager.
At 13 and 14, a person is still newly minted as a teen. Still babies.
But 15?
15 is in young man territory, and I’m no longer having a hard time with this, because he really is giving us a glimpse into what kind of man he is going to be, and so far, he’s someone I am so proud of.
He’s encountered many challenges this year, and he’s met them all head on.
His time is encumbered with two hockey teams, which means up to eight practices a week, some weeks, and at least four games a week.
Yet, he loves the sport and he makes sure he gets his work done. We never have to pester, or even ask, really, if he’s finished his homework, because he always has.
He talks and emails teachers when there is a concern and doesn’t rely on us to advocate for him, although we would, in a heartbeat, if it was needed.
He saves the money he makes instead of spending it all immediately.
We can hear that deep voice shouting and laughing, joyfully, from the basement while he plays his PS4 (which he bought for himself) online with his friends.
And as much as he is turning into a man, he is still my little love.
He makes us laugh every single day. He consistently pulls practical jokes on Real Man and I, delivers dry, one-liners with the comedic timing of a pro, and is old enough to understand the humor that we enjoy.
His heart is so big and he loves us all passionately, even if the words don’t always leave his mouth.
He is six feet of awesome.
He’s 15 today. And I’m okay with that.
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