My now 11 year old has only a handful of memorable stories.  He’s a thinker, a planner, and an all together type A.  I remember when my daughter was about 2 1/2 she looked out the window and said “What a beautiful day!”  I’m pretty sure I gasped out loud.  He has NEVER commented on anything absent of his own needs EVER.  “I’m hungry, what time are we leaving…” He is as organized as his sister is spontaneous.  So to happen upon the following situation, I couldn’t help by glow with pride.  Simply being a boy has rarely come naturally for him but this particular day a boy he was.

Friend time for our sweet Connor is typically spent creating villages in Minecraft or terrorizing his sisters and friends with Nerf/Water Guns.  One particular summer day it was too hot to run around outside and the baby was napping so I had to put a stop to the intensity of Minecraft (yes- that’s a thing).  Connor and friend found themselves in our unfinished basement rummaging through boxes and laughing hysterically.

Suddenly I hear an ear piercing scream and a litany of “I’m sorrys” flooding up the stairs.  I rush down to investigate and I found 2 boys – wrapped from literal head to literal toe in bubble wrap.  In each hand was a Lego weapon.  Not, mind you, a weapon made of Lego’s, but this:

I stopped in my tracks and just stared at the situation.  1 boy was writhing on the floor clutching his bubble wrapped head while the other sat next to him in tears. As he pulls his hand away there is blood, just a little blood, not the kind of blood that makes you rush to the Emergency Room but definitely the kind of blood that needs to have a second look.  The Lego sword only pierced the skin, directly over the eyebrow.  It was a small flesh wound, no stitches necessary.

The boys, donning their bubblewrap, had a sword fight.  This sword fight (with teenie tiny swords) apparently caused great emotional injury.  Apparently they just aren’t ready for the big time yet.

There are few moments these days where I am reminded of how little he still is.  He is starting to talk about girls, and asks for coffee in the morning, sleep until 11, and stay up until midnight.  His room smells like gym socks and he eats like a 25 year old.  His milk intake alone burns my weekly grocery budget, he outgrows shoes faster than Amazon can deliver and he makes his own breakfast.

But today, they played with Legos.  Today they remembered that they were carefree and young.  They pretended that they didn’t have to be cool and “big” to be liked.  They just had to have fun and be together.  I pray  for more days like that for my little tween, days to relax and remember that he will grow up, eventually.  He will have to take his life seriously, eventually.  He will have to mind his business and use caution and fall into routine, eventually.  But now, now is the time for silly and fun and giggling and ridiculousness.  Maybe, dear son, if you hold on to those silly, carefree, ridiculous things – then, perhaps the adulting things won’t be quite so hard.