It's Five O'clock Somewhere

Okay, I'm going to come right out and say it..."I'm not a fan of these damn tween years." Wow, that feels better. I love my son. He is twelve, and I know that this will pass, but I was not ready for this quite yet! He has the braces, and the acne and he is long and awkward. We all go through this, but I wasn't quite ready for it. I especially wasn't ready for the attitude.

I wasn't ready for him to point out to me on a daily basis how stupid, old, ugly, fat, and unequipped I am at everything! It took thirty-seven years for someone to so eloquently tell me...not.  I guess it is a cocktail of his lack of a filter and being a pre-teen, but yikes do I need a drink just thinking about how many years of this I have to go. Somehow, he thinks his dad is the end all, be all of smart, cool, and awesome at everything! I agree, his dad is smart, cool, awesome (and for the record, handsome) but apparently, non of it has rubbed off on me in the last 15 years.

 I figure in about eight years, my son will need me for something again and think I am worthy, but for now, "It's five o'clock somewhere."