ode to a teenage son

It’s hard to believe you’re nearly as tall as I am, your hands and feet are gargantuan, and your voice now wavers between little boy, croaking frog and nearly man.

You think you’re all grown up now that you’re growing your first unkempt whiskers, yet you still have to be reminded to flush the toilet on a daily basis. And you think you’re so clever, touting environmentalist values as a nifty reason not to flush, but I’m on to you. True environmentalists don’t take 30 minute showers.

Ah, son. It seems like only yesterday that you were toddling around me. Oh, wait. Maybe that was just yesterday.

You’re still a devoted child, albeit a bumbling, self absorbed teenager. Hard to fault you for that. It’s in your nature, all that self exploration. Carry on, son. Just don’t forget to pick up your wet towel, do your homework, wash your dishes, flush that toilet, hang your wetsuit, pick those boogers, do your own laundry, feed the fish, tend to the chickens, and zip that fly.

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