eighteen

My boy turns 18 today.

And as weird as it feels to say it, he is now a young man.

He's been towering over me for years. He's well over 6 foot tall and has (fluffy) whiskers, his voice still squeaks a bit but mostly is quite deep, and he has the biggest feet you've ever seen.

But I'm his mum. And so he's still my boy.

You see?

And this is what he looks like now. I can only get photos of his back or his hand covering his face or a blur as he ducks under the table because he won't face the camera anymore.

So.
Eighteen.

He has the rest of his life in front of him. I hope he lives it well and lives happily ever after.