I think I've been lumped in with Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny and all things that used to be cool but have become disappointingly transparent over time. But here's the great thing about Brayden, he has a really good poker face. He still gives his wish list over to Santa at Christmas, enjoys the spoils of the Easter Bunny in spring and treats his mom like she's cool.
My van was filled body to body with teenage boys and their airsoft guns. I was shuttling the birthday crew back to our place where the festivities were to continue when the conversation in the back of the van turned a little sour. Something about stepping in something while they were running through the foothills. "Hey! Don't talk that way! There's a girl in the car!" the birthday boy yells over his shoulder.
See? I'm a girl. His girl. Someone to be watched over and protected wether my lack of cool warrants it or not.
It's the year of the electric guitar, lacrosse,
being ordained a teacher and sticking up for the girl.
My boy's becoming a man.
