Holidazed

The morning after hurts but in a good way. The house is destroyed and the remnants of a thousand howling middle school age boys is all around us.

It is not the calm after the storm but the clean up and I am tired but happy. My boy is smiling and so am I. He’ll officially be 12 in less than a week and we have had another sleep over party for him.

This may or may not be the last, but it definitely won’t happen next year. That is because next year will be his Bar Mitzvah and I won’t even tell you how surreal that feels to me.

These boys all used to be tiny little creatures but that is not the case any more. One of them is 5’9 and we wonder if he won’t be well over six feet. Two others aren’t much shorter than him and I know that in a few years I will be the one who has to look up to make eye contact.

My son won’t ever be as tall as them and that bothers him a little, but he’ll get used to it. He asks me about it and I laugh, tell him that my hands are bigger than a lot of the guys who are taller than I am.

He wants to know if that matters and I say it doesn’t matter any more than their being taller than I am.

Values are a funny thing. Some change over time.

We are all tired and worn out. Sleep will come soon, but I am happy to say there will be no need to hit the mall until after the 25th.

Tired doesn’t go well with holidazed.

This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

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