"Check Out My Dot-Com"

The Boy is about to hit a major milestone. He will turn seven and two-thirds on Monday. He thinks that sounds so much older than just "seven."

Like any typical kid, he just can't get older fast enough. When the neighbors across the street put their "slug bug blue" up for sale, he begged me to buy it for him so he had a car to drive when he got his license. He already knows who he's going to marry -- and has known this for about three years now -- and has, in fact, proposed. She accepted, but I'm pretty sure that she's not aware that this truly is a long-term plan of his.

But this boy who would be a man in a heartbeat also has some trouble letting go of some of his more childish characteristics. Like his love for all things Pokemon (shirts, notebooks, video games). And his need to still burrow next to me on the couch, or crawl into bed with beside me when he wakes up just a little too early on a Saturday.

One of my favorite things about all kids in general is their propensity to tweak the English language to their liking. Pasghetti is a nationwide phenomenon, but Jacob always used to enjoy milkaches (milkshakes) and lalos (balloons) on a weekend outing. He has since mastered pronunciation, but his awkwardness with some phrases leave me smiling.

Just today he was asking me about boxing gloves, and whether you could really open and close your hands when you were wearing them. I told him I didn't really know. So he grabbed his guitar and made up a song on the spot, that went something like this:

Hey there, can anyone tell me about boxing gloves?

I wanna know, wanna know, wanna know right now.

Can you open your hands when you're wearing them?

Send me the answer on my dot-com.

After I appropriately applauded, he took his bow, and said, "I really need my own dot-com, Mom. That way I can tell people to check out my dot-com."

I still don't know whether he meant an e-mail address, a website , or -- gasp! -- maybe even a blog. But I didn't correct him. I love his phrasing. He still lets me kiss and hug him when I drop him off at school or camp, but he's starting to get embarrassed when I fuss over him at soccer. So while we're in this no-man's land between boy and man, I'm going to enjoy every bit of "childhood" that we have left.