My son Calvin turned 12 on Sunday.
One more year and I will be the proud parent of a teenager. Wow. I can still see the little runt sitting in the incubator in the hospital after he was born 7 weeks premature. All 3 pounds of him. Now he is on the verge of puberty. Where did the time go?
I spent 6 hours on Saturday building him his new basketball hoop.
He discovered me on the side of the house working on it, so the surprise was blown, but at least I got some help finishing it. As it was it was almost 9 in the evening before we got the last nut tightened and the hoop put in place. The darkness didn't hinder his enthusiasm for shooting some hoop before he came in for the evening though. It wasn't that long ago that I was hoping and waiting for my son to take an interest in sports, now he thinks about basketball all the time and it's me who balks when he prods me to come and shoot baskets with him. I think this is a sign that I must be getting old too. I guess I should be thankful that his primary "passion" is basketball right now, because I know it will gravitate to other less innocent things in the coming years, namely, girls. (Shudder)
The teen years await. I hope I am ready. Oh, and Calvin too.




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