I went in to wake Middle this morning for the dreaded SATs. Only his hand was visible. It peeked out from the mount of his duvet and rested on his computer.
"Middle," I whispered, "You are asleep with your hand on your computer."
From beneath the covers, he mumbled, "I woke up this morning and checked my email but there was no good news so I went back to sleep."
Just then, the song he had picked to wake him up for the SATs began to play. As the volume rose, I recognized some very familiar bars. And a moment of worry and sadness and fear became one of those most cherished of all mothering moments – the ones when you know everything is going to be just fine.
Because how many of the seventeen-year-old boys who received that longed-for invitation this weekend chose this to wake themselves up for the SATs?
It’s all good.