The beauty of having more than one child is that offspring subsequent to the first can see things coming. For example, when Child 1 went through puberty, lost their mind and became a plaything of the Dark Lord, Child 2 was completely with me as we looked on in bewilderment and terror. "Whoa" he said to me one day as we watched Child 1 tear through the house looking for it's lost shoes (or a puppy to mutilate...whatever). He turned to me with his delicious pudgy earnestness, eyes shining with devoted adoration, "I PROMISE I will not be like that when I am a teenager." I smiled, knowing better than to trust this, but hoping against hope that he would, somehow, beat the odds and be the one teenager to successfully shoot the hormonal rapids without getting a drop of snarky ambivalence splashed on his psyche.
Alas.
I began to hear the rushing water of puberty earlier this Summer and sure enough, he is now calf deep in the surly swirls.
The expressions "What?!??!" and "GOD!" will inevitably bookend our vacation this year, along with half a dozen other snorts and exasperated sighing sounds.
I can no longer see the floor in his room and, when left to his own devices, he slept until TWO the other day. (Insert digression about my father KILLING ME if I ever did that.) He has traded his heretofore good natured lackadaisical-ness for instant overreaction and can knit his precious caterpillar brows into an impressive scowl.
All that is missing from the landscape is the acne and the eye rolling. But we still have six weeks of break left, I'm sure they're looming just up around the bend.
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