I am in the study. Thad is in the living room talking to himself. Now he is singing. I know he is 10 1/2 and wears deodorant (when reminded–AND under duress) and can cook himself eggs in a pan over a fire while I am still in bed. I know this in my head. But as I heard his voice just now–that low mumbling hum of one having a conversation with one’s self–I was jerked back in time and expect to be able to pick him up and have him wrap his monkey arms and legs about my person while I carry him around the house. Since he now weighs in at 100 pounds and is 4’11”, I think reality would come calling pretty quickly. So I will write this little post and let it remind me that my days until the voice changes are numbered. . .