My youngest son turned twelve today. This shouldn’t be allowed. If James is twelve it means I am old . I don’t want to be old! I want to be the same age I was when James was born. It was a good age.
The only problem is then James would still be an infant and that would be a loss. It’s a decent trade. I am old and the world gets James at twelve.
James is a parent’s dream. He is a kid who never gets a drink without asking if his Dad would like one too. He is a self sufficient boy who can cook his own lunch or breakfast and always offers to make his parents something too. He never has to be reminded to go to bed, he just goes.
Then there is school.. James won more academic awards then any other student in his elementary school. Now he is in middle school and he is adjusting. He brought home a report card with only one blemish - a B.
He recently did get in his first trouble. He was reading a novel when he should of been studying! James told the teacher he was reading because he had already studied enough. The teacher almost with delight reported, James got an 80 on the test. She went as far as to leave it on my voice mail. She pontificated that if he would done as he was told he would of scored better. I for the first time was disappointed in James.
The teacher handed back the test two days later. The computer, when grading, had made an error. With the bonus questions included, James scored a 102.
I am now disappointed in myself. I doubted my son. Even with the evidence of a reported 80 I should of known better. If James says he I was ready for a test I should of known he was right.
I should of known because with his record corrected he has never been in trouble. He has never disappointed his Dad.
He is the reason I can bear growing old.
Him and his brothers.