Thursday, August 18, 2016

S, 8th grade

Not a typo, my boy is in EIGHTH grade. That's a grade older than I was when I moved to South Carolina. He's such a cool kid. 
 He did not, nor does he ever, want to take pictures. I don't know when he started hating the idea, but I seem to remember him being a willing subject once upon a time. 
 He would not smile. 
 He declared that if he got poison ivy he would never take another picture as long as he lives.
 He's doing great in school. He's doing great in the CAP. He's freaking fantastic at the guitar. He's an awesome babysitter. He has surpassed me at all things technological. When I throw my hands up at the computer, he can usually fix it. His feet are bigger than mine. He is starting to take the lead on projects around the house instead of just helping with them. It makes up for the teenage mood swings, almost. 
 I can't believe this boy will be in high school next year. 

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