Today B found his first zit. He said, “I guess I’m in puberty now.” Yeah, that and the need for deodorant are a good clue.

Then he asked when I had my first zit, and I honestly have no idea. Then: “When did you have your last zit?” Me: “Uh, right now?!” Welcome to having that “youthful” skin, kiddo.

I still maintain that the biggest lie my mom ever told me was when 16-year-old Katie moaned, “How long will I have to live with zits like this?” and she said, “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be done by your 20s.” I should’ve known something was up, because she still got zits at that point.

Guess it’s good to have something to keep us humble, eh.

And, who knows, maybe B will get lucky and finish up with his zits before he hits, oh, 40.

Oh, and the other day he admitted “having a crush” on a kid in his class. Does he know what this means? I somehow doubt it, but the concept is now on his radar. Luckily, there’s a Calvin & Hobbes for that.

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