28 Days

Before you even think it, no. This entry will not be a confessional about rehab. I'm no Erik Ainge or Charlie Sheen.

28 more days. Unbelievable. April 28, 1995 - my first young 'un was born. Sixteen years ago ... less 28 days. One of the milestone birthdays of life. I'm toomuchcountry, and I've nicknamed him toomuchtexting.

7 lbs, 11 oz. 21 inches long...16 years ago less 28 days.

The last 16 years are a bit of a blur as I look back on them. And I have no friggin clue what lays before me.

What I do know is that he will turn 16 in 28 days. Suddenly, I've aged to within four weeks of some questions that I've never really asked before:

• What kind of birthday soiree do you have for a sixteen year-old boy? I'm guessing its a big deal to turn 16 as a girl (cue Molly Ringwald/John Hughes movie). But for a son? I have zero memories of turning 16 myself. A big dinner with a bunch of friend? Just a normal dinner with family? Gifts? Or just a shoulder chuck with 'have a great day pal - and clean up your room when you get home'? 28 days...
  
• Is it that big a deal to get your driver's license on the day? Apparently, the answer is a resounding YES. I got my license during my 17th year (post 16th birthday); however, my mother and I were not in line on the day. But he has his mind set that is the one thing he really wants to get. 28 days...
  
• Am I prepared for how my insurance rates are going to skyrocket when he does get his license? My answer contrasts the previous bullet: a resounding NO. 28 days...
  
• When will he start digging girls - at least enough to make it known to us? I'm not stupid...at least not that stupid. He is 'friends' with several PYTs, but he hasn't dated or really even asked about it. For the most part, he is still just a geeky, teen boy. 28 days...
  
• How in the world will the two of us who brought him into this world avoid taking each other out of it over the idea of a car? My wife is scared to death to ride with him. He does fine - its just excessive nervousness on her part. On the other hand, I've got 40-50 hours of passenger time with him behind the wheel, and I think he has done remarkably well. Yet, she is the one who wants to give him a car for his birthday to drive solo whereas I'm the one saying "now wait just a damn minute". 28 days...
  
• Assuming we agree to get him a car (meaning she'll say "we're getting one whether you like it or not"), what shall we get? My vote: a high-mileage, reasonably maintained, 4-door, inexpensive car. Comfortably less than $5,000. Statistics say as a male teen he'll wad the thing up before he moves out from under my roof. I'm viewing any purchase as analogous to buying a blister pack, commodity item near a Wal-Mart register. Use it up, throw it away and start over should the actuaries' prediction prevail. Her suggestion: The precious boy needs a low-mileage, don't-leak-oil-on-my-driveway, current model so he can carefully drive it the next 6 or 8 years. Oh, and it needs to be a bit stylish too. And its gotta be a Toyota, Honda or Nissan because Consumer Reports says those are the best types of used cars. Huh? The kid's whole live is pretty much based on a 10-mile radius from his mattress. If he breaks down somewhere, he could walk home before a tow truck arrives or hypothermia sets in. He isn't a middle-aged, father-of-two who is under employed, struggling with the mortgage and high gas prices and needs a deeply discounted sedan to roundtrip a 30-mile commute from the 'burbs five days a week for the next decade. But I digress. 28 days...
• Have I come to grips that in a bit over 2 years from now he'll pretty much be gone? College, work, somewhere (hopefully not the pokey). Kinda. Even though I don't remember turning 16 during my sophomore year, I do remember turning 18 my senior year. I knew I just had to graduate that spring, work the summer and then move away to college. I love my folks, but I was ready to get gone. So if that's the mindset he's got too, I'm good with it. As a matter of fact, I'll probably struggle more if he does NOT leave. So help me if I have to change his nickname to 'toomuchleeching'. 28 days...
  

When he was born, I had no clue what to do. He peed, crapped, ate, puked, slept and drooled. From around age three until nine, he thought I had hung the moon. And I adored all the time we spent together. Years 10 to 15 were a bit weird - we didn't talk as much even though we spent time together. Now as he approaches 16, I'm trying to learn how to treat him more as a young man while still trying making him realize I'll bust him down to buck-private at the drop of a hat if circumstances dictate.

28 days.

TMC