Got Me Again

Tuesday nights are a bit of a mess around here. There's the usual school pick up, homework, lunch and dinner making and blah-di-blah...and then there is the ballet class, and more recently the Cubs (Boy Scouts) for DS. Most of our "events" end well after 8pm. 8pm on a Tuesday after I've been cooking since 7am mean I'm a bit of a wreck. This makes my Tuesdays a nightmare, especially as DH is working loads of extra hours and I can't rely on his usual help.

Tonight, I brought DS home from Cubs, sent the girls to bed and sat down with my son to eat (his) dinner. Over slow cooked Osso Bucco (you KNOW I was going to get a food plug in there) with him, I looked over and realised just how, well, grown up he looks. Most amusing was when he took a bite of dinner, chewed a bit, cocked his head to the side and said, "Hmm. Tender, juicy, flavourful... exactly as it should be, Mum." (And thank you, future MasterChef judge!)

Anyway so I'm looking at my silly, gorgeous son...all tousled hair and red cheeks and gorgeousness, and I'm thinking, WHEN the heck did my little boy grow up? So, lacking in self control and with a tear in my voice AND my eye, I say to him, "Oh, my gorgeous boy. When the heck did you grow up?"

And he says...

"Possibly in the last 8 years I've been alive. I'm pretty sure that's when I did it."

Bloody kid. Ruined my moment.