Today is my youngest son’s birthday. He is turning 17. In all reality he has been turning 17 for a year. He is now finished turning and will begin his assault on 18.
I know what you are thinking. How could someone who doesn’t look a day over thirty have a 17 year old son? Well that’s very kind of you but I do.
It doesn’t seem like 17 years since I had him with a little help from his mother. Seems like just yesterday as I peered out her window trying to get a glimpse of the West Virginia football game playing next to the hospital. Truthfully the game hadn’t started yet. James was born early in the morning, about 6 AM. But there were people arriving. West Virginia takes it’s football serious.
Now that same 8 pound 4 ounce baby is planning on applying to WVU. Becoming a student of the school where he was born. Applying is just a formality. His grades and test scores are more than enough to get him into West Virginia. They would be fools not to admit him.
He would be an asset to the university. A great student who one day they can brag about almost as much as his dad does.
Have I mentioned lately he has already scored a 29 on his ACTs and he hasn’t taken them his junior year yet? Have I mentioned he is taking three AP courses this year. He is also taking Spanish 2 and Pre Calculus.
I hate to mention it but he is having to work hard to maintain his grades. It’s a struggle to keep his “A” average but I know he can do it. I know it because he is my son and my sons can do anything they put their minds to.
So next year he will probably be off to a new adventure in his life. To him I am sure it seems ages away but this year will fly by. In a blink of an eye he will be moving into a dorm and becoming a university student.
To the world he will be a college man.
But to me and his mother, he will always be our youngest.