Breakfast Conversation With the Boy

As we were eating breakfast this morning, the boy suggested that I write down our conversation and post it on my blog.  I agreed. 

Me:  So, you finished 6th grade.  What do you think about middle school so far?
The boy:  It's fine.  The teachers are good but they give too much work.

Me:  What about the kids?
The boy:  Overall they are pretty nice.  There's always a couple mean kids, but they leave me alone because I'm so big.  That's the best part about being the third tallest kid in my grade. 

Me:  What was your favorite subject?
The boy:  Social studies because my teacher was awesome.  He loved to travel and would show us cool artifacts that he picked up from places all over the world.  He made class really interesting. 

Me:  What about your least favorite class?
The boy:  Study hall.  My teacher kept the room insanely hot, it always smelled like strong perfume and she would yell at kids because she thought it was funny.  We didn't.

Me:  What are you most looking forward to about summer?  
The boy:  JAM camp.  It's always my favorite thing I do all summer.  

Me:  I know you love it.  We have to load in your drums on Sunday.  Can you believe it's here already?
The boy:  I know.  I'm really excited.  It's especially cool that one of my friends is going too.  Now I won't be the only kid my age at the camp.

Me:  What drum kit are you going to take to camp?
The boy:  I'm going to take my Rogers kit and my Ludwig Black Beauty snare.  

Me:  That will sound great!  I wonder what bands you will be in this year. 
The boy:  Since I'm letting Miss Laura pick my bands for me this year, I'm worried she is going to put me in Jazz Fusion or something else really hard.  

Me:  You will do fine no matter what and it will make you a better drummer. 
The boy:  I know.  I'm just nervous.  I'll feel better once I see my bands.  

Me:  You've grown a ton this year.  How does it feel to be so tall?
The boy:  It's OK.  I can't wait to be as tall as dad. 

Me:  At the rate you're growing you will pass him by within the year.  You're already within two inches.  
The boy:  Hey, Mom.  I'm taller than you.

Me:  Thank you for pointing out the obvious.  
The boy:  I'm stronger than you too.

Me:  I don't know about that.  I think I can still take you out if I want to.  
The boy:  I know.  I just like to say it.  But, I'm going to be stronger than you soon.  Just give me a year or two.  

Want to know a secret?  I am pretty sure that the boy really is stronger.  He towers over me by a solid seven inches and already has a decent weight advantage.  One of his favorite things to do is to sneak up behind me and lift me a few feet off the ground.  

Show off.

His biggest downfall is that he has weak hands and likes to access my strength by playing Mercy.  My hands are small but surprisingly strong.  One of these days he is going to wise up and challenge me to an arm wrestling or weight lifting competition.  I won't stand a chance.  

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