The son is 16…. almost 17. He’s getting his driver’s license as soon as he passes the test. He only failed it by two points last week, he actually did really well and the examiner told him that most kids fail it the first time because they get nervous, but the second time is a cakewalk.
He got his first job. He’s finishing up his junior year in high school with decent enough grades and a plan for college. He’s got a girlfriend that I actually approve of.
She invited him to prom.
WTH?
Prom. My baby… my little boy who I carried in one arm, with a jansport backpack with his diapers and bottles in it slung over the other… my little boy who was the talk of the town in his baby grunge jeans and flannel shirts. Who used to sleep on my chest when he was just born. My little boy… who made me a gingerbread house when he was five and wrote “For my mom, because she loves me.” (carefully printed and placed under the Christmas tree).
My little boy.. who used to set up massive hot wheels race car tracks from one end of my parlor to the other, all so he could make 30 seconds of race car noises… is going to Prom… with a girl.
I’m ready to just burst into tears. No, scratch that. I AM bursting into tears.
Why do they have to grow up so fast? I’m not ready for this… I mean, I am in some ways… but I’m really actually completely…
Not.
Prom brings back so many happy memories for me. It was a good night with good friends and a great time. But from the other end of things… it seems like it’s another stage in the process of me letting him go so he can spread his wings and live his life. I hope I’ve prepared him enough for the world out there.
But most of all… I hope he has a good time at the prom.
I need chocolate now.
