In the last month or so it has hit me. 6, 5, 4, 3... weeks left of fifth grade. Actually what hit me was the pungent smell of dirty, sweaty boy feet as I entered Jack's room to tell him to turn off the light and go to sleep at 10:30. Seriously, the boy who has always required a solid 12 hours starting at 7 pm, is now up at all hours of the night. 11- that must be what it is.
CHA- CHA- CHANGES... turn and face the... zits? WHAT?
And don't even get me started on his B.A.D. attitude. This kid has a scowl that rivals his mother's.
The Doctor diagnosed him as being a teenager. I want my sweet boy back. DREAD!