Th-Th-Thirteen

He Who Is Now Taller Than I turns 13 today.  Yeah, I just typed that number.  It's much harder to say.  "My oldest is 13...".  How did that happen?  I keep thinking about the classic line from Steel Magnolias.  "Time marches on.  And sooner or later, it marches right across your face."  Actually, it's more like "Don't Blink".

I won't post any embarrassing baby pictures here--that is the stuff of which rehearsal dinners are made.  He has sweetly tolerated my random bursts of nostalgia these past few weeks.  Being wired like his mama in that vein, he plays along.  And tends to surprise me with what he remembers from his preschool days.  While I'm tempted to regale you all with tales of his first real Halloween costume (Elmo), his first complete sentence (Kitty bite you!), and his favorite riding-in-the-car song (Sing "Day", Mama, Sing "Day"--that was toddler-speak for "This is the Day!"), I look at this 5'5", size 11 shoe basketball player who cracks up at Tim Hawkins young man.  And, I think, wow.  Just wow.  Pretty eloquent, eh?

I'm thankful for his conscientiousness, his diligence, and his compassionate heart.  His patience with his uber-energetic younger brother, his laughter at goofy puns, and his devotion to his favorite sports teams brings a grin to my heart.  Truly, I think the only person who took the Gators loss in the 2008 SEC Championship harder than he was Timmy T himself.  He amazes us with his nearly-photographic memory--he's your man in Jeopardy, Millionaire, or any Trivia battle.  He wonders at the injustices of the world and has little tolerance for leaders who won't take action to right them.   (We're working on channeling that ferocity--he comes by it honestly!).  

Sonic Blasts, Picasso's Ranch BLT pizza, and his dad's Perfectly Chocolate Chocolate Cake rank among his edibles of choice.  He didn't come to the All-American adoration of macaroni and cheese till he hit double digits--and yet, he orders up the Lovely Roll at our favorite sushi place.  And, those fruit-filled cereal bars--aptly named "bar-bars" by him at the age of 17 months--are the go-t0 snack.  And, yes, we all call them "bar-bars".  Still. 

We packed him off to camp this week.  For the first time.  A week East of the Parents.  He took the essentials--extra socks, sunscreen, and SpikeBall.  My mom's heart was touched by the fact that he was concerned about not being home for his birthday.  Concerned for me.  We celebrate long after the actual date, the rule being that the celebration ends when the last birthday card is received.  And, then there's a 7-day extension.

It's all good.  Or as he often says, "Good point."

The size 11s.