Today the boy turns 20. And before you leave a comment saying anything at all, I request that you read this post and realize that I can be a little touchy about the fact that I was a teenage mom. I was 19, OK? And married. And you know what else? I just might be the most successful teen mom you’ll ever know.
Yeah. I’m touchy.
What’s important today is not my touchiness. It’s this boy. This man. This kid that I have loved for 20 years. This guy that has made me laugh and cry and holler his First Middle and Last name in the tradition of mothers all over the world. This boy who is now a wonderful grownup. He’s responsible! He’s a good driver! He’s the best employee at his job! He gets good grades! He’s a good, albeit snarky big brother! He is, in general, a guy I’d like if we weren’t related by blood; if we just met on the street.
So happy birthday son. I’m so dang proud of you.