In nine short years, our oldest son will be graduating from high school (assuming he stays on track). Age wise, he’s halfway there.
Wow. That was fast.
He doesn’t talk too much about what he wants to be when he grows up. I figure it is best to just let him be a kid right now and experience things as they come.
He enjoys baseball, basketball and scouting. He does well in school with little necessary encouragement. He’s clever and witty, too.
His biggest dilemma right now is whether or not he wants to be president (yes, of the United States).
“Mom, there are two reasons I do not want to be president,” he said.
“Paperwork and meetings.”
“But there are two reasons I do want to be president,” he continued.
“A bowling alley in the White House and a private jet.”
This is the same child who informed me that, “We are not comedians, we are Republicans.”
So, maybe he needs to brush up on his political science, but I believe his reasons for contemplating whether he will campaign for a presidency one day have substance.
In the meantime, despite my innate will to be overprotective, I’ve decided to grant him more Childhood Freedom: like riding his bike on the street. Alone.
“Mom! Can I ride down to my friend’s house?”
I felt my mom-guard rise up, “No. (dramatic pause) Wait, which friend?”
Back in my day I rode my bike all over our neighborhood. It was that or hoof-it. I even met a mailbox head-on and kept going.
My son’s friend lives just four houses down. We live on a street with little traffic.
“Do we have any weird neighbors?” I debated. “Only the ones next door (just kidding, Mom and Dad).”
“Yes,” I said to my son as my chest tightened with anxiety.
“But stay to the side and watch for cars.”
After four laps up and down the street, my son reappeared to check-in. He was safe and sound; no bumps, bruises, cuts or mailbox flags embedded in his face.
“Mom, can I go just one more time?”
In about six years he will be asking me this same question about driving the car. But, by the time I say “yes” to that question, he will already be president and have a private jet … and a limo.