We went in for a well check recently and things were different. The questions were more teen-oriented and Dex got embarrassed. Not terribly so, because HELLO, he knows EVERYTHING, but just enough to show we were entering new territory.
He had to get a bunch of shots to be ready for Middle School, so the obligatory guilt ice cream followed – proving that we’re all still kids at heart no matter how old we get or how slumped and sulky our shoulders may become.
While we ate that ice cream (OK, stuffed it down our faces because it has been hot as hell in Denver again) I looked at Dex’s hands. The doctor confirmed that he is almost five feet tall now, and his hands showed it.
I asked him to spread them next to mine and snapped a photo.
Granted, I have always had meaty, thick German fingers. Man hands. So it is not surprising that my little man and his cute little digits are not so little anymore.
Except it was. This summer has exploded with growth for Dex, not just physically, but emotionally.
Right now his hands a just a bit smaller than mine, but soon they will not be. They will be bigger, stronger and more ready to take on the world.
I sit here celebrating and mourning at the same time.