I guess FB read my mind by reminding me of this picture just now. He just left to get gas so he could drive about 30 minutes out-of-town to go hiking with his friend. In this pic he had all of high school ahead of him. He was such a baby, and I felt such a giant urge to protect him fiercely. Now he’s about to return as a senior. And honestly, he’s GOT THIS– as he would say. I think this picture somehow was given a nod, unwittingly, in the college essay he just showed me. I, who regard my own essay assessment skills in such high esteem, have absolutely no idea if what he’s written is great or not. I can’t even begin to advise him on it– so here we go, the cobbler’s kid once again has no shoes. Thank God that he’s in good hands at school, and Mrs. A, Mr. F… I’m sending him your way. I am so un-objective when it comes to this child. I’m too hard on him, and then I think he could conquer the world– and why can’t everyone see it. I am really good at telling the parents I work with how to be brave and how to let go and how to trust. But this time around, it’s all throwing me for a loop. Slow down, you big stupid clock!