A reminder they are not all aliens intent on ruining lives and bank accounts.
As I write this, there are seven teens asleep in my basement. My son and his friends came back from their high school dance in high spirits last night. Laughing and joking loudly, they boisterously descended on my kitchen, devouring everything within reach (even some chips that I thought I had hidden pretty well). These guys were the human equivalent of an invading colony of army ants, foraging insatiably through my refrigerator.
Now these boy-men are dead to the world, asleep in a puppy pile on my basement floor. And I have to be honest – I am loving every single thing about these teens. In fifteen plus years of parenthood, I have grown accustomed to – perhaps, in some ways, inured to – the many and diverse aspects of wonder in…
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