We don't often talk about poop around here. Diapers are long gone, but even then I didn't dwell on the poop because I really preferred each changed diaper to be a done deal. The cat's stray poop is about as bad as it gets now. Well, last week, the worst was a neighbor confronting the owners of pooping dogs.
As of yesterday, we have moved into new territory. My son has his first pimple on the side of his nose. He's had small red bumps, but this is the first to develop a head.
It took everything I had to not pop it, tweezer fingers of mine just itching. Instead I put salicylate on it, the best pimple remedy evar.
When I told J that he had a zit on his nose, him being a boy and completely oblivious about it, he reacted in a strange way. Strange to me.
"Huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu," was all I heard as he digested the news. It was a Beavis moment. Seems that he's happy.
He asked, "Does this mean I am a teenager?" and I quickly screamed/pleaded/begged, um, said, "No, teenager begins at 13 and pre-teen is about 10-12."
He mused, "But I'm only nine!" Close enough, I guess.
Se we revisited how his body changed recently, how his chest and shoulders (and belly) filled out over the summer. He used to be on the slender side and now he is appropriately fuller and entering puberty. Whoa, he liked that word puberty.
Pub.er.ty ... Pube.r.ty.
Off to buy him his own tube of pimple cream. Before I know it, he'll asking for other kinds of cream... or just stealing it.