If I had kids, I’d want them to turn out like him

My mind was already wandering a bit when I got a text from one of my boys from the wilds of the Midwest.

I’ve never mentioned him but we’ve been friends for the past year. Actually I often called him one of my “kids” because he’s young and I ended up being a bit of a mom figure to him. (Gah.)

Which he needed and I’ll admit I wasn’t too bad at.

Anyway, now, he’s become my hero in a big way.

He identified where things were going wrong, we talked about the one and only solution, and I kicked his butt a bit to take a baby step forward. I was cheering him on all the way and willing to walk with him if he wanted.

He surprised me and took a flying leap instead. All by himself.

And today, he just sent me a photo of himself looking like a completely different person. He looks at peace. Happy. The guy I remember meeting not so long ago.

My heart swelled with this weird motherly pride he’s always inspired in me.

Today he doesn’t know it but he graduates from one of my “kids” to one of “my boys.” Which is a pretty special designation.

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