Last week we drove to Waco and picked up our son, Zack, from college.
He just finished his first year of school.
We loaded the boxes in the car in the pouring rain and packed the few pieces of furniture that he had left and waved goodbye to his dorm room and headed home for the summer.
Another chapter is done.
Another chapter is finished. And as we stood there in the dormitory parking lot and I watched the excitement on his face and the raindrops dripping off the brim of his hat and his barely contained energy just waiting to take on the world, a little piece of my heart sobbed.
I’m not sure when or where or how it happened, but a man now stood tall and proud and strong where a twinkling-eyed boy once was.
And so today, to celebrate this chick that just returned (albeit so briefly) to the nest, I wanted to share with you one of my favorite stories of growing up.
It’s all about confidence and belief in yourself…
….and the amazing power of a really good hair flip.
This bedroom is where all the stinky socks and stinky shoes in our house live along with mud tracks and basketball shoes and drum sets and algebra books and track uniforms and baseballs.
And plenty of testosterone.
It’s a whole other world.
When they were younger, Zack, one of the stinky sock boys came home from middle school one day with a disgruntled look on his face.
As he walked into the room, he didn’t really didn’t say anything. Instead, there was a lot of consternation and sighing and eye rolling and hair flipping for dramatic effect. I think he was waiting for someone to ask him what all the angst was all about.
I said nothing.
Instead, I got my popcorn and sat and waited patiently for the drama to unfold.
Finally, he turned to me with a woebegone expression on his face….
….and a flip of his hair.
“Mom….you are never going to believe it. This girl….ummm….she stopped me by the lockers and told me that she liked me.”
“Really?” I said. “A girl told you that she liked you?” I questioned with an attempt at complete nonchalance. I find that in these types of situations—nonchalance is the best approach for getting the most information possible.
“She stopped you by the lockers? What did you say to her?”
He stared at me in disbelief.
“Are you serious? I didn’t say anything. What do I say to something like that? I just turned and walked away.”
“Hmmm” I said with another nonchalant shrug. “Probably a wise decision.”
He nodded in agreement.
Then he flipped his hair again and continued on with his tale of trial and tribulation.
“But you haven’t even heard the worst part yet,” he snorted.
“There’s more?” I asked patiently. “What could be worse than a girl telling you that she liked you by the lockers?”
He flipped his hair again and patted it back into place with an air of satisfaction and slowly craned his neck to catch a glimpse of his flipped hair in the window.
I waited patiently for the hair flipping to stop.
“What happened next?” I asked.
He paused and announced, “And then? You are NOT GOING TO BELIEVE IT. When I was about to get on the bus one of her best friends told me that she liked me, too.” And with that dramatic pronouncement, he flopped down on the couch in despair holding his head in his hands.
Mournfully he looked up at me with all the angst of a stinky sock boy and let out a sigh.
“Mom….I’ve got problems.”
He paused, then flipped his hair once more and continued, “Lately….I really think….
…..that this hair is lethal.”
Our construction budget increased that middle school year.
We had to enlarge all the door frames so his stinky socks and hair flipping ego could fit through. 🙂
PS I found this picture of Zack right about the hair flipping stage.
Here he is now.
A little older with a little less hair to flip. 🙂
PPS You can see all the sources for this room on my Shop My House page.
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