Late Bloomer.

Friday I am taking a personal day and we're off on a little holiday.
One of the things I dearly dearly love about R is his childlike excitement when it comes to a road trip. The man is 53, but when we get into the car and get going, it's what I imagine travelling with a 12 year old is like.

Last summer we went camping and en route, he insisted on listening to bad rap music and telling me how real it is.

We have the first game of our outdoor soccer season on Sunday. I can barely contain my excitement. The woman who coordinates our ragtag team asked us for an emergency contact and I put down R and gave his cell#. It was the first time in my life it wasn't my mom. I'm a late bloomer I think.