But, Don't you Want to Hold Hands and Talk About Your Feelings?

The title pretty much sums up my daily meet and greet of Sam as he gets off the bus. He's happy to see me, he usually has something to show me or say to me, he gives me the update of how much homework he has, and then it's off to XBox Live to be "with" his friends.

And then I jokingly say, sometimes to him and sometimes to the basement door, "But, don't you want to hold hands and talk about your feelings?"

I love this fierce independence and friendships that are true and tightly bound. I love watching him become the man he will be in baby steps and independent flights. I love knowing that, when tested, he sticks to what is right. I love that he's strong and tender and really funny. I love that he can make his own meals, operate the lawn mower, travel to the park with friends, and make good decisions. I love that he opens doors for me and still likes to hang with me at least for a short part of the day. I love that he's obsessed with the History Channel, but will still delve into SpongeBob Squarepants, "just for" me.

Almost 13, I can't believe it.