For example, when I realized this week that I needed to have THE talk with my son, I panicked. He's only eight-going-on-nine, for Pete's sake! His comment to me, in the middle of what I was saying, was, "Okay, Mom, I get it." Usually I would have fallen out laughing. Instead I wanted to cry.
And yesterday in the car, he and his sister were arguing about whether Luke Skywalker was a Jedi knight in the final movie. Hailey insisted that he hadn't even finished his training. Caleb begged to differ. It got quite heated. I had to break them apart. "Daddy will know the answer," I said. "Ask him tonight." But I can't help wondering if Luke was really a Jedi. This is very annoying, and I don't think I'll sleep until I know the answer. Whatever.