At this moment, I am pretending to sternly glare through the office window at 10 ten year old boys who are supposed to be sleeping. I am also throwing occasional empty threats out at one 11 year old boy. As of midnight, Boy 1 is eleven. Seems like a week ago he hit double digits. I think it is important to point out that time isn't flying by for me because I am old, it is because I have had a lot of interesting experiences in the past year. I read a study about perception of time, or maybe it was something I saw on on an infomercial. Probably still legit, though.
I do, however, notice about a year's worth of development in Boy 1's ability to communicate sarcasm and or disdain for his mother. Today, or, I guess, yesterday, now, Boy 1 came to the bank with me. As I stood in line, I realized I hadn't totaled the deposit book for the teller. I frantically tried to manually add the two numbers before we got the front of the line. When the teller finally confirmed that my total was correct, I felt like I had won some kind of mathy award. Grinning, I said to Boy 1, "Ha, I got it right, high five, Me." He says in his best, I am almost a teenager and therefore exponentially smarter than you already, and also slightly bored with you, voice, "You mean clap?" Yes, I suppose that's what a high five to myself would be. Doesn't sound nearly as fun though and now I feel dumb instead of funny.
So I am going to wake him and all his friends up at 6 am with a series of loud, slow high-fives to me. I deserve it.