About a week ago, my boy and I were talking about something, nothing, everything, as we do every day (on average five times a day, not that I pay close attention or anything - shut up!). We got to talking about a time when he was in elementary school or junior high and another boy was harassing and bothering him. He told me that his mom went to this kid and essentially told this kid to stay the hell away from my boy and leave my boy alone. I knew what he wanted - he wanted me to be just as horrified as he was about his mother's interference with his life.
Instead, I responded more or less with this. "Of course she did! Good on her for doing it, too! She was protecting her baby!"
He stopped short in the conversation. "Do you really think so?" he asked me, his voice incredulous. "Yes. She loves you, you're her son, and someone was messing with someone she loves!"
Tonight, he'd been talking with his folks, and he thanked them for raising him as they did. He told them that he knew that they did the very best they could. And without me asking what brought this on, he told me, "I remember what you said about what my mom did. It really gave me a new view on what parents do, and how they do it."
I didn't think I could love him more. And really, folks, I want to thank his folks for raising such an amazing man.
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