My son, the College Boy Man
Nine days. That’s how much longer we have as a family of four sharing the same house. I’m not ready.
I still haven’t made him that giant flannel bulletin board I was planning, the one on which he could arrange little felt roads and cars and houses and trains to his heart’s content. I still have a couple of toddler-sized overalls in my mending basket too (because, who ever actually MENDS, anyway?)
And what about that cross-country train trip we wanted to do at some point? We totally forgot to do that! Never made it to Disney World, either. I guess I’m not too broken up about Disney World, but Universal Studios might have been fun.
Bear-bear is still wearing the pajamas I made him, though, and they still look new. They should, as they were part of the matching set of pajamas I made for both of them just last Christmas, when my son was seven.
This summer we’ve managed to teach him how to make a bank deposit, at least, and last year he finally learned how to do laundry. Sometimes he even remembers to close the front door after he’s used it, too.
And today, he’s gone in to vote in the county elections. They let seven year olds do that now?
I guess I don’t know very much about anything, any more.
