Puberty is always theoretical until it happens all at once, in our case this past weekend. Well, not for me but for my 11-year-old, Zane.
I got up early for church and after putting the cinnamon rolls in the oven, I woke up the boys.
Zane said, "Good morning." Overnight, his voice had dropped an octave. His nine-year old brother, Aidan, yelled, "Look what Zane's got." Underneath Zane's bright blue, footed pajamas was one very upstanding sign that puberty had struck.
I'm the sentimental kind who cries at Hallmark commercials and here was my baby at the dawn of manhood. I teared up, but Aidan has always been the kind to ruin a Kodak moment and so he pointed to the pajamas and said, "That's disgusting." Zane blushed.
Some days you just got to be late for church.