it’s time: “shut the door please”

I enter his room with an armful of freshly laundered and folded boy clothes. There he is sitting on his bed surrounded by all his bed buddies, including those little lions. One leg is propped up on his bent knee while he is so intently focused on yet another magic trick video…his latest YouTube obsession.

Thanks, Mom.

You’re welcome.

As I begin to exit his room and head downstairs to retrieve even more laundry to put away, he calls out to me.

Mom?

Yes, son?

Can you shut the door please?

Um, sure.

And so we continue on that twisty, winding road that is life with a pre-teen and teenager. I have no clue how this road will twist and turn nor how steep it might be but I do know that again, for the fifth (and final) time I am on that road. I quietly sigh to myself and gently shut the door.

It’s going to be okay.

For now.

Wait until we get to the slamming-the-door-and-loudly-blasting-angry-music stage. I’m so not ready to go to there.

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