Although they are noticeably absent in the recent field guide, 12- and 13-year-olds are, in fact, jagoffs. They certainly are to each other, as are most children (and even many adults). But that’s not what this post is about. This post is about The Boy, now aged 12 years and 10 months and acting like a real, well, jagoff.
Tonight’s wrangle with my oldest child has thus far yielded a bath, a cocktail, a Facebook vent, and intense (and guiltless) raiding of his Halloween loot. Oh, and this post. There is nothing quite like being told by the child who showed up to life 5-weeks early and who you nursed until the age of 20-months that you’ve never done anything for him.
I finally understand how Grandma Texas felt 25ish years ago.