They Came At Me In Hordes

The gray hairs.

Tuesday evening The Senator, who just enetered fourth grade, told me, "Mom, I need deoderant."

You do, huh?

"Yep. I get all sweaty at school and I'm going to smell bad."

Did someone tell you that you smelled bad?

"No, but I will. Michael wears it, I think."

Ah. Of course. Peer Pressure Puberty. I told him he could ask his father to show him some manly deoderant and how to apply it.

Wednesday morning: I sent him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. I followed a minute later to put away some clean towels and saw him putting the cap back on the Right Guard. I fled. And then I cried.

And then I remembered that he's now just that much closer to moving out into his own apartment and I will never have to look at his toothpaste spit in the sink again and I felt much better.