John has a routine. Count the envelopes. Slit them open. Separate response cards from letters. Read the letters. Return letters to envelopes. Drop by websites of interest for a visit. Share gleanings from the daily dozen with me. "Mom, Bill Watterson went to Kenyon... Mom, I kind of like the University of Rochester. I can design my own major. There are no specified requirements." For a boy who thinks, lives outside the box, this has appeal. "Maybe I'll major in English or Mathematics. Maybe both."
We're in the midst of a shift in this life we dance. I pause on a toe, wait to see where he leads. Offer counsel, bite my tongue. I have a front row seat to new confidence, diligence, expanding horizons. From here the view is heart stopping. And it is fine.
A recent school day. Do all boys tackle every lesson in a clump??