The Case of the Faint Mustache

Today is a big day for two reasons:

  1. I started my parenting blog adventure.
  2. My son started down the path to becoming a man.

Let’s start with my son. I woke him up as promised to go to our favorite diner for breakfast. I owed him a meal at Good Truckin since October, a belated present for his 13th birthday. Yes, I know it is January of his next birthday year. He understands that the schedule for a family of five does not compromise. He let the excitement build for three months and even took a shower last night in anticipation. He will heal from this.

I was not prepared for his morning greeting though.

I clapped my hands outside his door, turned on his lights, and yelled his name. He sat up 10 minutes later.

“Mom, I have a mustache,” he said as he walked over to me.

I looked closely. I looked more closely. I was in his damn face after a third move closer. Indeed, there was a lightly colored caterpillar on his lip. It wasn’t a young, super fuzzy caterpillar. It was more like an aging, balding caterpillar, but it was there.

“Yes, it looks like you do. Where’s your dad?”

If my boy was looking for some grand wisdom from me about young male facial hair, he would be sorely disappointed. I came from a family of three girls. He was my first and only son. I couldn’t keep my own body hair situated, and I only promised him breakfast today. We left for the diner.

Hanging out with a thirteen-year-old boy is much like parallel play with toddlers. You occupy the same space, glance at each other occasionally, and grunt basic words, which if you are patient enough, communicate ideas. It was the best time I had in months. Even when my kid spilled his water all over his food, himself, and the people next to him because of his misplaced, drunk squirrel boy movements, we had fun. He let me take a picture of him basking in the glory of impending manhood. We drank coffee, black in mourning of boyhood’s exit. We returned home and parted ways.

I did pick up a little nugget of wisdom from my son about the difference between boys and girls on the way home. He cleared his cracking voice and let me know boys proudly fart. Girls hide them. I don’t know how I lived this long without such a clear explanation.

Going back to 1) above, I am looking forward to sharing the ups and downs of parenting and family life on this blog, using a healthy dose of humor. I may share some parenting tips and things we like to watch, eat, use etc. in the Rogers 5 household. As you can see, I use the tagline of “Live. Love. Laugh.” Yes, we have one or two of those signs in our house like everyone in the suburbs raising families. You can’t leave Target without one. I’d like to think we do this trifecta a little differently though, and I’d like to share our funny chaos with you. But for now, I must go research safety shavers and little man face cream for my boy.