My Son, the Teenager

I thought I had several years left before home was simply a place to get a good night's sleep, and wheels, girls, and food became obsessions. I was sadly wrong. Somehow, my first grader is getting a head start on those teenage years.

First, home. It is no longer where most of Parker's life is lived. It is just a landing base for food, sleep, and light sabers. In a typical day, after we arrive home from school, Parker doesn't even come inside. Instead he grabs his bike or basketball and is out the garage door. His feet don't make it through the doorway until he is summoned for dinner. Then the moment dinner is over, he's back outside playing until bedtime. I tried putting an after school snack on the kitchen table to slow him long enough to have a five minute conversation. Once he started asking for his snack "to go" I gave up that plan.

Next, wheels. Now that he has learned to ride his bike, that is pretty much all he wants to do. Today I saw him riding his scooter, and I was surprised. "Where's your bike?" I asked.
"I ran over a goat head and got a flat tire."
"Oh."
He hung his head and whispered like he was at a funeral, "I miss it."
"I'm sorry. It's probably been a tough ten minutes without it."
"Yeah." Sigh.

Girls. Today (pre-goat head) we rode our bikes to school. I was helping Parker lock up his bike when four girls from his class accosted him giggling. What? They're already in love with him?
"Parker, we brought our teddy bears for show and tell. Do you want to play with them."
Parker, in an absolute perfect imitation of Napoleon Dynamite, "No! What do you think?"

Food. I'm making dinner, when the front door is hurled open and Parker shouts with unparalleled intensity as he runs up the stairs, "Igoddadollacreamuck!!"
"What?" I come running, sure he is asking me to call an ambulance.
"I've got to grab my tooth fairy dollar! There is an ice cream truck in our neighborhood!"
The kid is up and down those stairs in thirty seconds flat. Then I see him race across the street so fast on his scooter, that he completely wipes out. My normally pain dramatic (He is his father's child) son, does a three second evaluation of his knees, and is back scootering at breakneck speed.

Yep. That's Parker. Six going on thirteen.