We haven’t had a first around our house in a long time.
Well, I did have Crown Royal for the first time the other day, and was subsequently more intoxicated than I’ve ever been in my life, but, I’m not talking about me.
I’m talking about the kiddos. FirstS are few and seriously far between these days. Haven’t been hit with anything new in a long while.
Until today.
It caught my eye in my peripheral vision of The One Who Knows Everything’s profile as we watched TV this afternoon. I grabbed his chin, squished his cheeks and pulled his face to me for closer inspection.
“Is that a zit?” I said.
His brother and sister were no where within earshot, but, I could still see a bit of embarrassment on his face.
“NO!” he shouted as he pulled his face away from me and covered the pimple on his chin with one hand, as his face reddened.
“YES IT IS!” I shouted back, and said excitedly, “Let me see it. Awwww…you’re growing up, Dude. I need to call Dad. Oooh…let me take a picture of it and send it to Dad.”
With that request, he jumped up off the couch and ran from me, swinging his arms with no regard for his brother, who happened to walk into the room at just the wrong time, and who happened to get knocked to the floor. The One Who Gets Away With Murder fell to the floor in a dramatic heap, wailing, as the bigger one slammed the bathroom door.
This was enough activity to pique the girl’s curiosity, and she came out of her room and nonchalantly said, “What is going on?”
I quickly comforted Jack and coaxed Avery out of the bathroom. I sat him down on the couch, and tried to explain, “You’re growing up, kid. This is the first of many zits you’ll have. And I’m your mother, and you’re sorely mistaken if you think that between now and the time that you’ve navigated safely through your teens, that I won’t tease you once, twice, or two thousand times. That’s just how I am. Besides, it’s just a zit.”
Having calmed himself down and having just heard the tail end of my monologue, Jack added insult to injury (his brother’s, not his own), busting into the room, yelling, “I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT WAS A ZIT. I KNEW IT. I TOLD HIM LAST NIGHT HE HAD A ZIT, AND…AND…HE KEPT SAYING, ‘No…it’s just a blemish,’ OR WHATEVER. BUT, I KNEW IT. AVERY HAS A ZI-IT, AVERY HAS A ZI-IT. AVERY HAS A ZI-,” but, he was interrupted by a hard shove, and Jack hit the ground before he could finish the word zit!
Ave stormed off again, slammed another door, and the little one was in another dramatic heap on the floor. Wailing. Again.
Just as nonchalantly, never letting the chaos of our house get under her skin, Lily said, “Really? This is all about a zit?”
I tried to calm Avery down, apologizing for teasing him, but, encouraging him to grow some thicker skin rather quick like. I warned him of the numerous zits he’d have and the hair that would begin to emerge soon, and all the fun stuff that puberty would bring, and that a little ole zit and his mother’s excitement over it, was nothing to get upset about.
I promised to be more sensitive to his feelings, he promised to stop slamming doors, and use his words, instead, and Jack promised to punch Avery in the face if was shoved to the ground one more time.
It was my prepubescent boy’s first zit. Although he wouldn’t let me take a picture of it, it looked exactly like this…
photo from HERE
Not that you’ve never seen one before. But, I have never seen on before on the face of one of my children. Another milestone for the books.
A first.
I sure as hell hope both of us handle the next one a little better!
![punksheep]](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_5tv0KDHLtkB8XXSzT-WRHkI4cr0Avq8E_6xtL7yF6Y4Z9utuhQgqVj94WYhr68oPPVbuWOHVgQd4oCR7O8DfhE36kPt2BhD-tt6PqeOH1gJENmGzMpGVXIzvAZS4JtrcsCt9aob1cgc/s1600-h/punksheep%25255D%25255B5%25255D.jpg "punksheep]")
