Seven Year Old 'Tude

My boys are sweet, almost unbelievably so. When other boys snapped and talked back, mine did not.

But seven is a new place. It is the end of babyhood, where you can start to see the teen, the man, in the boy. Not all the time, just at certain angles, with certain comments, a glimpse of the future. And it is exciting.

And sometimes a little heartbreaking.

After school Theo usually skips out to meet me, grabs my hand, and begins to tell me whatever is on his mind, about school, the video game he is playing in his head, or what he wants to build when he gets home. He is full, and cannot wait to tell me everything.

But lately while he still skips, he looks back at his friends, and he no longer takes my hand. At least until we are out of sight of the schoolyard.

When I say anything, even a tease, a sullen look creeps over his still sweet baby face. The look of the rebellious teenager. He is just trying it out. As soon as he eats a pretzel or sees a car or sign that makes him curious it is gone.

But that, too, is the future, I suppose.

Will it break a poor mama's heart?