My Eating Machine

Beau throws his books in first, and then hops up in the Suburban.  I notice his red shorts and how far they rest above his knees. Hmmmm.....probably getting a little embarrassing.

As we pull out of the middle school I ask him what his homework looks like for the weekend. He gives me the run-down and it seems like a lot.  It can wait though.

"Are you hungry?" I ask.
His eyes light up.  It's like I just asked him if he would like to spend the day at Disneyland.  It's happened once before, so he knows this question could potentially lead to the Arby's drive-thru.

He's not wrong.  I'm not exactly a fast food person, but Arby's seems to have a way of saying, "I think you're special" to this growing boy like nothing else.

He is my eating machine.

Calories cannot run fast enough from his voracious appetite.

My eyes grow wide as his cheddar beef sandwich goes down in about six bites, disappearing somewhere into his disproportionally large, pubescent knees.


"Can I eat that?" he asks my two-year-old.  She clutches her sandwich, making it clear that it's hers, and he goes back to his root beer. 

We hop out of the car and walk to the nearby clothing store.  Time to add a little more length to those shorts.

After ten minutes, the store employee scans the new clothes he's already wearing and we head out the door.

We stop to pick up the elementary school kids on the way home, then hang out in the yard until Dad comes up the driveway.

I can't believe how fast this boy is growing.

I love who he is and who he is becoming.