Boy mom isn’t a title I thought I would be good at… but I just love the being a boy mom.
I have to laugh at the things I find in his pockets (and in the laundry). Little pieces of wire, screws, bottle caps… any thing that might come in handy at some point turn up in those pockets.
Recently Michael came to find me after church. He couldn’t get his buttoned up sleeves off to change his clothes. As I tried to yank the shirt off I figured out why he had trouble. Both his hands were balled up, filled with rocks he picked up along the walk home from church.
Later the same day he passed by me crashing two of those rocks together. “Mom, I’m making sparks.” To which I calmly answered, “Not in the house please!”