It would appear that I can still impress my children. Ok. If I’m being honest I can only impress one of my children. The youngest. He’s nine. And, yes, I realize it’s a very impressionable age and I’m going to take advantage of that as long as I can.
The other two are 16 (going on 17) and 13 (going 30) – our middle son was born an old man. I’ve always said he’s an “old soul.” So, while my youngest still thinks I’m the bomb (does anyone still say that?) the older two, not only see me, but the rest of the world, through jaded eyes. The loss of innocence makes me sad.
But at least I have one son left who is dazzled by my infinite knowledge of the world and my abilities to create something out of nothing. Especially the night before a school project is due.
He also thinks I have a form of super hero powers because he told me the other day, “Mom, whenever I try to sneak up on you, you always know I’m there. You must have some sort of special mom powers.”
Yep, I do and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he sneaks like a herd of elephants. I prefer to let him think his mom has some sort of sixth sense about little boys who try to sneak up on their moms. Besides I get a kick out of the way he looks at me in wonder with his big dark eyes. I know that look will be gone soon and I’m prepared to milk it for as long as I can.
He also thinks I’m a gourmet in the kitchen and he even complimented me on my (as he called them) “mad cooking skills” the other night. I reminded him that the mac and cheese comes out of a box and that anyone can make it, but he said, “No, mom, you make it better than anyone else in the world.”
He may be only nine, but that boy’s apparently a genius!