i'm all, kevin, let me take a picture of you.
and suddenly, he's freaking out! he's all, why? what are you going to do with it? what should i do? i don't know what to do! what do you want a picture of me for? should i smile? do you want me to stand still? this is hard!
and i'm all, sheesh! you haven't even done anything yet! and then i practically had to wait five minutes for him to pull himself together enough for me to grab this quick shot, which shows the colorful hand uh, markings? art projects? grafitti of the hands? he comes home with them every day. and every time i see him i'm all, what happened to your hands?
and he's all, it's the lyric to a song.
oh yeah. i forgot how deep teenagers are. how real. how emotional. and i'm so glad i never have to do that again.
having said all that, i really love that kid.
2 comments:
Oh teenagers. So glad I'm not one any more. And dreading raising one. :)
Andy went through art hands a few years ago. Now he only writes on himself to remember a phone number.
carol
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