Boys. Gotta love them.

There is something particularly joyful about having a 15 year old son. 

I mean besides the raging hormones, quick changes in mood, opinions, looks that would kill you etc etc. 

I mean the laughter, the quick wit, the huge general knowledge, the gentleman behaviour, the joy of discovering who they are. 

I have decided that on my best day I am no match for my boy.  He can outlast, outwit and outplay me 24/7.  I truly have to bring my A game all the time.  Monopoly is he and I's  thing.  And we are very competitive.  Auctioning off properties to each other, slamming up hotels so fast your head spins and seeing who can take it all within a preset time.  He is astute.  He ponders and he plays a very shrewd game.  He is going to be great with property.  

Then there is Jenga he somehow manages to ensure that if I am the player after him, he sets it up that it is literally impossible to move after him without knocking it all down. 

The only person in the universe who loves Smooch frozen yoghurt more than me, is Nic.  He can be bribed with this quite easily.  Fetching him at the wrong time .... offer Smooch, saying the wrong thing as a mom ...... offer Smooch etc etc.  Great bargaining tool. 

His defence of those less fortunate, less strong, less anything ... is legendary.  He does what our Priest calls Pondering.  Everything but everything is thought through and thought about .... processing before he acts.  He is a champion of the underdog.  

Even in all his various sports ..... he plays hard.  But he plays fair.  And is a gentleman.  

He regularly looks at me when I say something and comments "Really Mom" ... and he does not mean it as a question. 

And he always, but always has  the last word.  


c'est la vie till next time xx

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