One night he came in to the front room and told me had been reflecting on his life. I am so glad I didn’t laugh, I almost did. He is sixteen, but an old soul.
He thanked me for how I made him smart.
I smiled and said he was born smart.
He reminded me of the morning walks to the bus stop where I would have him spell his spelling words. Of the times we would read together for his reading minutes. Of the times I sat with him as he struggles to write out an assignment.
He is now a much better writer than I am. He is smarter than I am, but still respects my intelligence and experience. He is a straight A student. His classmates rely on him to explain their homework. He has his sight on being a particle physicist, and talks about things I have never even heard of before.
I look at my boy and am so grateful to be his mother. He has blessed me beyond measure.