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| 123 Weeks |
While Greg and I seem to be only slightly older than the parents we meet, I hail from a place where most of my friends' kids are becoming teenagers. They send warnings from the future. I remind them the future is now.
I have always thought I'd be good during the teen years. My own maturity level and tastes stopped developing in 1989. I've had almost thirty years practice honing tedious dramas and expressions of angst. I catch myself saying I look forward to being around my little rebel in ten years, except, it only recently occurred to me, he won't be looking forward to being around me. I keep forgetting I'm the one he will be rebelling against.
Good. I can take it, and every kid needs a mom who can. No matter how many times Ren shouts, "Go away Mommy! I'm NOT pooping!" I'll be here for him with badly written poetry and unlimited Erasure ballads.
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