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Little Billy is not a very big boy.

His daddy is right at 6'.

His granddaddy on his daddy's side is 6'2".

He's got a few uncles that are 6' or more.

Little Billy's mama is 5'3" and his mama's sister - Little Billy's aunt - is 5'2".

One of Little Billy's grandmothers is 5' even.

It's hard to tell how tall Little Billy will end up being - giving that there are both short people and tall people all around him.

For now ...

Little Billy is ...

Little.

Anyways ...

At dinner recently, I asked Little Billy, "So ... are you going to go to work with Daddy tomorrow?"

Before Little Billy could answer, Alexis spoke up and said, "I want to go - I'll go to work with Daddy tomorrow."

I smiled.

Little Billy looked at his small sister and said, "I don't think you could go. It's not a place for girls. It's a place for men."

I smiled.

I said, "Men?"

Little Billy smiled and said, "Yes - men," very confidently.

Alexis laughed at this comment.

I looked over at my little boy and noticed his small nose and little hands and tiny face. I said, "You're still only a boy," trying hard not to crush his manly ego.

"I'm almost a man," he took a hunkin' bite of his pizza.

I smiled.

"When will you be a man?" I watched him shove the pizza into his mouth like any MAN would do.

He giggled. "I don't know - soon," he answered sternly, looking me right in the eye.

Alexis couldn't help herself. She giggled uncontrollably. I nudged her under the table. She said, through all her giggles, "You're ... you're ... only ... e-lev-en years old," pronouncing her words very clearly and laughing.

Little Billy smiled. "What do you know? I'm more of a man than you are."

Alexis, searching for a great come-back, looked up at me for assistance.

On the upside ... I couldn't help her much. I couldn't resist but say, "Sorry, Hon - He's got ya there!"

Billy smiled, a manly smile.

Alexis grumbled - frowned - and went back to eating her pizza.

When Little Billy goes to school, he and Alexis always ride the bus.

There is entirely too much that goes on around the On The Upside household for Little Billy's mother to take the time to perform parent pick-up or parent-drop off, everyday!

NOPE! All the kids take the bus.

Little Billy's mom loves the public school bus system!!

She started sending Little Billy to school on the school bus, when he was 5 years old - Kindergarten.

She made sure he attended school everyday for 6 years - all the way through 5th grade. This is a total of approximately 190 or so days a year; 1140 days over the course of 6 years - that she has been putting him on the bus and sending him off to elementary school.

That is, with the exception of one day.

His LAST DAY of school.

The LAST DAY of elementary school.

The LAST DAY of 5th grade.

On this day, he asked to be driven to school by his dad - in the Corvette - and be dropped at the front door of the school (parent drop-off) - to mark the occasion.

His dad happily obliged.

Little Billy's mother was up early, getting herself ready to go to the ceremony at the school that morning. She was locked away in her bathroom - when her son was chauffeured away to school by his father.

Little Billy's mom managed to make it to the school just in time for the start of the ceremony.

She found a seat.

She prepared her camera.

And ... settled in with all the other anxious parents ... for the commencement to begin.

As the children began to file in - to take their seats at the front of the auditorium - IT WAS THEN THAT ... Little Billy's mother REALIZED that ... she had....... FORGOTTEN SOMETHING!

She'd had 6 years ...

1140 days ...

Many, many mornings and many, many bus rides ...

Leading up to this day.

This LAST DAY of school.

This LAST DAY of elementary.

This LAST DAY of 5th grade.

This DAY OF GRADUATION!

Why then?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why had she not prepared more properly?

Planned more thoroughly?

Why would she have ALLOWED her 11 years old son - the GRADUATE - the namesake of the On The Upside family - to step up on that stage ...

To accept his certificate and recognitions for "A Honor Roll", The Presidents Award For Educational Excellence (90 GPA or above all year long) and the Citizenship Award ...

WEARING ...

CAMO?

Not a suit and tie - like most of the other 5th grade boys.

Not nice attire like all the 5th grade girls.

Nooooooo ...

Little Billy ...

The family's namesake ...

The pride and joy boy-child of the On The Upside family ....

was ...

WEARING ...

CAMO!

CRAP!

CRAP!

CRAP!

This was all Little Billy's mom could think as she focused on her son through the viewfinder of her camera - CRAP!!

On The Upside ... Hey - Billy's Mom!! What are you going to let the boy wear when he walks across the stage for his high school GRADUATION - Surfer shorts, a muscle shirt and FLIP FLOPS? (*Little Billy's mother hangs her head in shame*)

Hosted by Cecily and Mama Geek

Little Billy IS ... his daddy's boy.

When he was small, he followed after me everywhere, just like his sisters. He clung to my leg when he was confronted by strangers. He was on my lap and in my arms for the beginning days of his life and seldom wanted to leave my side.

But ...

Somewhere along the way, he found himself a pair of child-sized scissors and ... he cut those apron strings and off he went to find his daddy. And, the only time he really looks for me now, is to help with homework or ... late in the evening when he wanders into my bedroom, crawls up on my bed and begs me to rub his back. I am always happy to oblige.

Following, for so many years, in his father's footsteps, has led Little Billy to many places he would not have experienced if he had stayed home, close by my side.

It has offered him a life filled with exciting adventures and manly errands. Of fast cars and dirty finger nails. Of time spent under the hoods of cars, in the aisle ways of Ace Hardware and Auto Zone, searching for parts and tools. Of time at the end of a pier with fishing lines strung into murky waters. Of peering through slits of deer blinds in the coldest part of the morning. Of sharing the front seat of a truck with his dad and engaging in manly conversations.

Little Billy's daddy grew up in rural Texas. He was a country boy. He learned to hunt and fish and aim a sling shot at glass bottles lined up on the railroad tracks. He learned to work on cars and trucks and did not worry that he smelt of grease and oil. He was not coddled by his parents and was allowed a childhood that encouraged roaming and wandering and adventure.

Little Billy's daddy does not coddle his son. He allows the boy to climb trees and is content to stand below the branches and smile up in amazement and pride. He hands his boy the largest rock he can find and encourages his son to toss the rock into rivers and streams and sometimes at the broad side of a barn. He stands over the boy's shoulder and steadies a man-sized rifle.

I often worry about Little Billy. "Keep him away from the alligators," I will insist, when I hear there are Texas gators in a nearby tank. "Make sure he watches for snakes - I am not going to be happy if you don't bring him home alive!" My fears and worries are never ending. "Make sure you quiz him on his spelling words," I will scream as they climb into the truck. "He's got a spelling test tomorrow." I think they laugh at me as they drive away.

Not too long ago, the phone rang in the early morning - I was still in bed. It was Little Billy calling from school.

"Hi, Mom," his voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"Hi, Sweetie. What's up? What's the matter?"

"Nothing's wrong," he says, "Guess what I got on my math test?" He sounded very calm.

I sat up in my bed, "What? What did you get?" I hoped for good news.

"I got a 100," he said proudly.

I went on and on about how proud I was and then asked where he was calling from. He informed me that he stopped by the office to make the call, on the way to his next class.

"And ..." he went on quietly, "Dad wrecked the Corvette this morning," he offered nonchalantly. "But, you didn't hear it from me. I gotta go, Mom - see you after school."

On this morning, his dad had driven him to school early to complete a math test he had failed to finish the prior afternoon. On his way out of the driveway, he ran the rear end of the Corvette into the corner of a trailer - the damage was minimal.

I smiled a big smile when I hung up the phone that morning. While I was a bit worried about my husband's Corvette, the worry was replaced quickly with pride and smiles. Proud of a boy that took time out of his morning to call his mom. Proud of a boy that felt pride of the work he had accomplished. Proud of a boy that even though he would prefer spending his time in the woods or in the bed of a pickup truck on a back country road, he finds time to be aware that his future is dependent possibly on the worth of an A on a math test. A lesson his mother had been trying desperately to teach him. A lesson she was not certain he was grasping or embracing.

I also found it interesting that he switched sides - if for only a moment - to rat out his dad about the Corvette.

I think there might still be a bit of a bond between Little Billy and his mom. I might not know how to load a shot gun or clean a catfish, or be comfortable when I see my son on the top of the roof or slinging razor blades at a bull's eye painted on a sheet of plywood, but ... I do believe he might just be looking to me to help guide his little butt through school. He might just believe he will do good to achieve scholastic honors along with ... antlers he can mount on his wall.

HAPPY 12th BIRTHDAY, LITTLE BILLY!

May your life always be filled with adventure.

May you always realize how lucky you were to have such a wonderful father.

May you never forget that the part of my heart that is yours ... is overflowing with love and pride for my precious son.

-

Little Billy's mother has her hands full.

She's got herself 4 kids.

She's got herself a busy life - as most mothers do.

She's the sounding board for most every word that comes out of her children's mouths and every thought that pops into their little minds.

She's the go-to person for advise --

For Band Aids --

For ...

The fixing of all broken toys.

She is the finder of ALL LOST THINGS!

She is a cool mom (the coolest - really) - but ... there are certainly times when she is ... TIRED!

Times when she might just say things to shush a rambling or whining child.

She might just elaborate statements - so as to make a child feel happier or put them in a better mood.

She might even - lie!

"So ..." Little Billy is standing next to the sink in the kitchen, "Can M spend the night tonight?" he asks, in an excited voice - so sure this question directed at his mother - the mother seated at the kitchen table - the one trying desperately to enjoy her delicious brisket and potato salad - will ... answer a quick, "YES", and then Little Billy can run happily on his way to call his buddy.

"NO!" is the answer that comes out of his mother's mouth.

Little Billy's shoulders slump.

His eyes dart back and forth.

He becomes fidgety and begins to shuffle his way across the kitchen to stand in front of her.

"But - you said," he tries very hard not to whine. He tries very hard to maintain his composure. He says, "Last night - you said, 'Maybe' - and you said it --- so positive," he is obviously confused.

Little Billy's mother shoves another bite of brisket into her lying mouth and thinks to herself how funny it is that the older kids would have picked up immediately on this stalling tactic the mother often uses to pacify a situation.

The older children would have easily seen through this feeble attempt on the mother's part to offer a statement, such as 'Maybe' --- even if offered in a chipper voice --- as merely a ploy -- a tactic -- a lie!

Poor Little Billy - he's got so much still to learn.

On the upside ... The mother showed pity on the boy child and changed her answer to "YES". How could she resist? He was so darling - standing there all wide-eyed and trusting (*evil mom throws her head back and laughs ... nearly choking heself to death on a mouthful of brisket*)

I love talking to Little Billy.

I never know what will come out of his mouth.

Sometimes, he is very serious and sometimes he is so goofy that he makes me laugh until tears well up in my eyes and my mascara begins running down my face.

Not too long ago, I was lying in bed and he came to lay beside me.

I was watching "I Am Sam" (with Sean Penn - great movie) and Little Billy got into the movie with me.

When the movie was over - me in tears and Little Billy admitting that he got teary eyed a few times himself - we got to talking about mentally challenged children.

Little Billy said, "I think they probably make the best friends," really serious.

I agreed and explained that they are often children that are very lovable and sweet and aren't often mean because they don't have those tendencies in them. We got to talking about the boy in his class that has Downs Syndrome.

I said, "Do you take care of J, when you are at school?"

He said, "Yes ... sometimes the teacher asks me to walk him to his other class."

He then went on to say that he and J were friends, but that he was probably not J's best friend.

I asked who was J's best friend.

Laying on his back on my bed, with the pillows all propped around his head, Little Billy began his story. "Well ... there's this other kid in our class that thinks he is J's best friend," he says this a bit harshly. "He's not always that nice, though. And ... he has been missing a lot of school lately, He was out for 3 weeks straight, " he rambles off subject.

I know the boy he is talking about and ask, "Three weeks - that's a long time to be out. Why has he been out - what's the matter with him?"

Without missing a beat, Little Billy takes a deep breath and says ... "I think he has gingivitis."

*ACK!*

I tried.

I tried really, really hard.

But, I couldn't help it.

I knew this was a serious conversation.

I knew we were having a good moment - a good discussion.

I. COULD. NOT. HELP. MYSELF!!

I started laughing so hard that I began snorting and tears were flowing ... I nearly swallowed my tongue, trying to get a breath of air in between all the gagging laughter!

Little Billy giggled a bit - let me have my little laugh and then smiled sweetly and said, "Oh ... that's something that has to do with your teeth," and he pulled the pillow over his head.

On the upside ... He meant to say tonsillitis. That boy cracks me up! It sure was funny and a lot funnier story with him saying gingivitis! Oh good Lord - here I go again - *HAHAHAHAHA! Can't breathe - snort - snort*

Little Billy learned to snow ski when he was five years old.

That year, we went to Red River, NM to ski. Little Billy got pretty good, really fast. And ... he was fast. He was, aside from me, the only one in our family skiing fast. My husband, Courtney and Chloe had also just learned how to ski and were not so fast or capable yet, so it was left up to me to try to, not only keep an on those three, but keep up with Little Billy as well. And he was not happy waiting on me.

We would go up the ski lift to the top of the mountain, the five of us, get off the lift and Little Billy would immediately take his position in our family line at the top of the slope, as if he was actually going to ski with the rest of his family. But then ... he would (all three feet of him) suddenly bend at the waist, lean over with his orange Mohawk ski cap aimed down the hill, tuck his stubby ski poles under his stubby little arms, take the stance of a professional ski racer and ... he was gone! Down the hill, miles ahead of the rest of us, as fast and in as straight a line as he could go, since that allowed for the greatest amount of speed. Me ... I'm still at the top of the slope screaming (because he's only 5), "Little Billy - slow down! Wait for me! Ski back and forth! You're gonna' fall and kill yourself goin' that fast! Back and forth, back and forth," I'd be screaming, as I would abandon the rest of my family to follow after my five year old ski devil.

Sometimes he'd be skiing along and he'd say, "Watch this Mom," and he'd head straight towards a small hill, fly up into the air in a hunched position, land successfully on the other side and turn back at me and smile a big ol' smile. Other times, he would say, "Watch this," and suddenly he'd veer off the slope into the woods (on no apparent path), swerve in and out of the trees (me watching only a vague orange speck moving way too fast through the forest) and then come out somewhere down below me, emerging out of the woods most confidently.

If you have ever skied, you know that it is best if you follow the markers to keep you on the slopes that are appropriate for your level of skiing (ie: green for beginners, blue for intermediate and black for very experienced - we stayed mostly on the green). Little Billy was unaware of these signs and only turned - to stay on our paths - when he would hear me yell, "Turn Billy! Turn!" and then he would suddenly make a very dangerous right turn onto the correct path.

This worked most of the time. When it did not, I would become furious because he would ski so fast and so far ahead of me, sometimes he would go beyond the path too far before I could tell him to turn and then he would come to an abrupt stop. He would always smile at the very dirty look I would give him. He would then have to sit down, take off his skies and either walk up the hill to the green path turn-off or, more commonly, I would have to go to where he was and take off his and my skies and carry both sets back up the hill, sometimes quite a ways, to the turn off path.

And ... you know I was not doing this in silence. I was telling him, "If I have told you once, I have told you a million times ... to slow down. If you would just listen to me, we wouldn't be in this situation. I'm too old to be hauling two sets of skies up any hill in this altitude, simply because you refuse to listen to me." He stayed silent, mostly.

Once, when this mishap occurred one too many times and Little Billy missed this turn-off up ahead, I was screaming, "I told you to slow down! You are just gonna' have to walk up here. I am not coming down there again to help you." About this time, there was this boy riding the ski lift, just above our heads, that I heard say, "Gosh, what a mean mom. Look, he's stuck down there." I looked up at that boy, moving away from me swiftly on the ski lift and screamed, "You don't know how many times he has done this," and then decided that my complaints were surly falling on deaf ears and shut up.

I am certainly not a perfect mom and I am certainly not the best mom, but ... that boy on the ski lift was wrong when he said I was a mean mom.

If he only knew how many miles I have actually skied over the past five years, to keep up with that darling little boy in that Mohawk ski cap, he might just see things differently. If he really understood how difficult a thing this is for a woman of my age, he might just understand such a mother expressing her fatigue and frustration in a moment of harsh words. If he only knew how far I have actually let out the slack on the invisible line that I have attached to that little boy, in order to let him go out into the world, feel the wind in his face and soar as fast as he can ... down a mountain (against my better judgement) ... then maybe he would know.

I was out-voted this year (by my husband) and we were not able to take our regular Christmas ski trip, as he didn't feel as though he could get away from work. I am not happy.

On the upside ... I will be a little older when we are able to go skiing again and that is obviously not good, except that ... it gives me that much more time (between now and then) to work up the stamina to ... try to keep up with my dare-devil son.

Sometimes, a fight is in the air just waiting to be unleashed - let out in an avalanche of rage - in the On The Upside household.

It was one of those mornings.

Somehow, Little Billy made the huge mistake of sitting in front of Courtney and Chloe's computer.

He came running up to the kitchen with tears in his eyes, "It's not fair," he squealed, "The girls won't let me go on the computer - they think I'm the one who got the virus on their computer and so now they say I can never use it again." He was in such distress.

I immediately became - distressed.

These fights - this bickering - is enough to make me resort to all sorts of tactics to resolve matters that seem to find only fuel to escalate the problem when rational suggestions are offered.

"Ask for your own computer for your birthday," I say loudly, knowing the words from my mouth will float past the boy in front of me and downstairs to the ears of his "mean" sisters. "Ask for a laptop," I suggest and then smile.

Little Billy smiles back.

Suddenly, from the family room emerge two angry sisters, bellowing loudly their disbelief that a mother would suggest such a ridiculous idea. "YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!" one would scream, "IF HE GETS HIS OWN LAPTOP - I'M MOVING OUT OF HERE," another one threatens. "HE'S ONLY ELEVEN YEARS OLD!" the words are spoken distinctly and spewing spit is attached at the tail-end of the sentences. They were enraged and besides themselves with anger.

They tried and tried to determine if their mother was serious or merely suggesting such an outrageous idea to make a point. They were unable to determine which.

I smiled.

Little Billy snickered and smiled.

The mother knew that the pacifying of the boy child by her suggestion was obviously provoking the two daughters to almost uncontrollable anger - but, she did not back down. The angrier they became - the more she wished a laptop for the boy. It was a test, of sorts - this little game - that THEY FAILED!

The mother shewed the girls out of the room - tiring of their loud voices and angry faces. Once gone, she turned to the boy child, pulled him toward her and whispered in his ear "You're my favorite," and he smiled real big - with a look on his face that suggested that he never doubted this fact.

Little Billy stayed near his mother in the kitchen - probably in an effort to stay clear of angry sisters. After a little while, and several conversations later, Little Billy got up to leave the room. I called him over, "By the way," I said, "You're not really my favorite," I had to set the record straight.

He giggled and then his eyes got big, "W-hat? W-hy?" he was shocked. "Well ... then who is?" he asked seriously

"Well - you know I can't have favorites," I explained, "I love all you kids the same. I was just kidding."

"You can have a favorite - sure you can," he suggested confidently.

"You're my favorite boy," I ran my hand through his hair.

"I'm your only boy," he snarled and then ... walked out of the room.

I screamed after him, "YOU'RE MY FAVORITE BOY IN THE WHOLE WORLD."

No response.

On the upside ... After Little Billy left the room, Alexis cozied up next to me,"I'm your favorite - right?" and smiled real big.

"Are you fighting with anyone?" I asked.

She answered, "No."

"Do you want to move out of this house?" I asked.

She answered, "No."

"Do you want a laptop for your birthday?" I asked.

She answered - "Can I have one?"

I answered, "NO!" and shewed her on her way.

-

It was a day not long ago, when I was at the lake with the kids.

The kids and I had had a long day of swimming and playing in the sun - we were tired.

The older girls were in their room watching TV.

Alexis and Little Billy crawled in my king size bed to sleep with me.

It was dark in my room and for a while I was relaxing and unwinding - nearly dozing off - enjoying the quiet in my dark room - except for the swishing rhythm coming from the ceiling fan above our heads.

I guess it was TOO quiet for the 2 youngest On The Upside kids - because ... they suddenly broke the silence with a steady stream of chattering.

I tried to ignore them.

I hoped I'd be able to slip into unconsciousness - anyway - but ... it was NOT POSSIBLE!

I turned towards the wall.

I squished my eyes closed SHUT!

I tried NOT to listen.

They tried their hardest to include me in their conversation - asked questions - offered facts ...

I stayed quiet.

Pretended to be asleep in hopes of encouraging them to settle down - get bored and GO TO SLEEP!

At one point ... the conversation turned to --- yawning.

It was at this point ...

That the night ...

Went ...

Downhill!

Little Billy would y-a-w-n.

Alexis would y--a--w--n.

I would y---a---w---n ... secretly

Then ...

Little Billy would Y-A-W-N ... LOUDLY.

Alexis would Y--A--W--N ... LOUDLY.

I would Y---A---W---N ... secretly.

You know ...

You CAN NOT be around y-a-w-n-i-n-g ... and NOT Y-A-W-N!

Little Billy says - to his sister - to me - to the dark room - "I only ever y-a-w-n if someone in my family y-a-w-n-s ... someone I love, y-a-w-n-s," and he y-a-w-n-s ... AGAIN!

Alexis says, "Yeah ... me too," and she y--a--w--n--s!

Little Billy says - to Alexis - to me - to the dark room - "I hardly EVER y-a-w-n," then he y-a-w-n-s again - LOUDLY!

Alexis says, "Yeah ... me too?" y--a--w--n.

Then ...

Little Billy says to me - ME --- the one who has stayed very quiet through all of this RE-DIC-O-LUS Y---A---W---N---I---N---G jibber-jabber, "Do people y-a-w-n ... in their sleep?"

I do not answer.

I still want him to believe I am asleep.

But ...

I think ... Well - OF COURSE THEY DO! I've been lying here doin' it - FOR 20 MINUTES!

Alexis says, very excited by this question --- "OH ... I DO ... I ALWAYS Y--A--W--N in my sleep!"

Silence in the dark room for a few seconds.

The brother then says, "How would you know? You are A-s-l-e-e-p! How would you know?"

Alexis --- ever the miss-know-it-all-of-all-things --- says ... "I just know," in her uppity-girl-tone. "I do!" she gets louder and more insistent. "Don't I - Mom?"

On the upside ... Sometimes, when my kids get to talking WAY TOO MUCH about something, I will say to them, 'Now ... that's just enough talking about that!' This was one of those times ... where there was WAY TOO MUCH TALKING ABOUT Y---A---W---N---I---N---G! But ... the mom did not answer. She felt it was best to just let the youngest On The Upside kid believe what she wanted about this Y---A---W---N---I---N---G CRAP! She felt it was best to not get anymore involved than necessary ...otherwise ... Y---A---W---N ... she might NEVER get ANY ... Y---A---W---N ... SLEEP!

Alexis is a bit theatrical.

She's a bit of a DRAMA QUEEN!

I have never seen a child throw so many fits over the most ridiculous of things.

Sometimes ...

The drama is predictable and sometimes ...

It comes out of the blue.

Things could be going along swimmingly and BOOM! - Alexis is in sudden MELTDOWN - Arms waving - spit flying - tears flowing - squeals squeaking out of her mouth!

Sometimes ...

I KNOW the meltdown is coming - you know - I'm actually the one that caused the combustion - like when she's in the middle of watching a favorite show and I tell her it's time for her bath - MELTDOWN!

There are many meltdowns like this - I see them coming.

Then ...

There are those that SURPRISE me.

The ones that come out of left field - where something is said or done that rubs her funny ... MELTDOWN!

I don't LIKE any of the meltdowns - don't enjoy the tantrums or whining or crying or theatrics - but ... I do find that I am amused more by the spontaneous, unpredictable meltdowns - sometimes they are just funny.

Recently ...

We were at the theatre - sitting in our seats - waiting for the movie - me, Alexis, Little Billy and one of Little Billy's friends.

Little Billy wanted to go get some candy.

I gave him money.

He stood up.

Alexis ----- MELTDOWN MODE - right out of left field!

Her face got all twisted - squeals squeaked loudly from her mouth - she slid almost completely to the floor as her body began to wrench and spasm! It was ridiculously LOUD. Ridiculously painful to watch and hear and ... ridiculously ... NOT FUNNY!

Little Billy's friend turned slowly in his seat to face the DRAMA QUEEN - and just stared in disbelief.

Alexis' mother - turned quietly in her seat so as to have a better view of the spectacle unfolding - and just stared in disbelief.

Little Billy ---

Moves quickly across the aisle ---

Stands very close to his CRAZY sister ---

Gazes down at her calmly ---

He says ...

In his most excellent "mom" tone ---

The one he's practiced ---

The one he's mimicked ---

The one he uses behind his mom's back and thinks she doesn't notice ---

He says ...

"Well ...

That's - An - Ugly - Face.

Just tell me ...

Tell me ...

What kind of candy do you want."

On the upside ... I guess she thought she wasn't gettin' any candy - WHO KNOWS!?! But ... Little Billy has her figured out - she sat right up, straightened her CRAZY SELF back in her seat and --- quietly --- PUT IN HER CANDY ORDER! *Smiles*

Me --- I needed something more intoxicating than Strawberry Twizzlers or a box of Milk Duds! Instead ... I got an hour and a half of WALL-E and the DRAMA QUEEN munching on Woppers and snuggling up under my arm because ... she was soooooo COLD!

-

I went with Little Billy to his school.

It was orientation night - the night to meet his teachers and learn all the rules.

We arrived right on time.

We made our way to the cafeteria and found our seats amongst the other excited students and glum-faced parents.

We listened.

Then ... we got up and moved through the hallways towards all of Little Billy's classes.

We'd find the right room.

We'd walk in and sign our names on the sign-in sheet.

I'd bend over and ask Little Billy to go over to the teacher and introduce himself.

I'd stay back and watch.

He'd walk right up.

He'd wait his turn.

He'd get the teacher's attention.

He'd say ...

"Hi - I'm Billy," and he'd extend his hand to shake.

I could see the teachers were impressed.

I was impressed!

I was proud.

I would then go behind him and introduce myself to his teacher and we'd then sit and listen and get up and go on from there to the next class.

After the tour and introductions were over - we left the school and walked out to the parking lot.

I put my hand on Little Billy's shoulders.

I said ...

"Thank you so much for being so polite and well mannered with your teachers."

He smiled.

"And ... thank you so much for being so brave and so confident and not arguing with me about my asking you to introduce yourself to your teachers."

He smiled.

"I am very proud of, not only how you handled yourself - but ... that you trust me when I tell you that you should do something - you just do it - thank you for that."

He smiled big.

"And ... thank you for being so nice to me tonight. I know you were around a lot of your friends and yet you never left me behind or talked mean to me or was ever once disrespectful. You made the evening very pleasant for me and I appreciate your patience and how kind you are."

He smiled even bigger.

"I love you, Little Billy," I said, as we were getting into the car. "You are a good boy and I am proud of you. I think you are going to do fine in middle school and ... I love you."

"Okay, okay, okay ..." he says, while climbing into the van, "What are we gonna eat?"

*sweet moments between mom and son ... O-VER!*

On the upside ... I love all of my kids the same - I do! I love them all. But ... that boy - he is nicer to me than any of those girls are - he is! I think it is because the girls and I are all cut from the same tough naugahyde cloth and our personalities are 'zactly the same. And him - he and his daddy are cut from smooth and cuddly cashmere. He is his daddy's boy!

Little Billy is very close to his dad.

Being the only boy - I imagine this adds to the strong bond they have created.

My husband has 4 brothers - he's the middle of 5 boys. He's accustomed to boys. Little Billy seems to be the same kind of boy my husband and his brothers were - they are all cut from the same denim cloth.

It's a pleasure to see that Little Billy and his father are so much alike, as it lends itself to Little Billy wanting to hang out with his dad - they do lots of things together.

One of the things I never imagined ... was the day my son would go to work with his father.

My husband owns his own business - an electrical contracting business. And, while he has to do a lot of work in his office - he puts on his tools and goes out into the world to work every single day. It is not an easy life. It is a hard job.

My husband has come to where he will wake his son early in the mornings - in the summers - and take the boy with him to work.

My son goes happily.

I am always so proud to see that my son is not in his bed - that he has gone to work with Daddy.

He's only 11 years old - but, not too young to start learning his Daddy's trade.

I want the boy to go to college - as does his father - but, we are beginning to realize that this son will likely take over his father's business one day. This is not something we ever planned, but realize that it would be a blessing for the father and a blessing for the son.

One day recently, when Little Billy had gone to work with his dad, I asked him to tell me what kind of work he had done that day.

He said, "I put in light bulbs and stuff," not going into too much detail.

"Is that all? What else?" I insisted that he elaborate.

We were in the car at the time of this questioning and I kept looking at him in the rear view mirror to see his face. He was looking out the window and he said, "I had to go get drinks - over at the hospital. Dad gave me $1.00 and some change and said go get some sodas - so I did."

I didn't like to think of my husband sending this small boy off to go get sodas - but I let that go and just kept on listening.

"I went to the machines - counted my money and realized I didn't have enough money - I was short a quarter. So, I went into the restaurant - that little one inside the hospital - you know?" he waited for me to respond. He went on, "I went up and asked the lady how much the soda's were and she said $1.50 and I said, 'Oh, okay,' and started to leave and she asked me how much I had and I told her I only had $1.25 and she said, 'That's okay,' and she gave it to me anyways," he smiled real big.

"She just gave it to you?" I was surprised.

"Yeah," he said, and I could see his sweet smile in my rear view mirror. "I got that charm - you know?" and he turned and gazed back out the window.

Yes - Little Boy - I know!

On the upside ... Like I said - He and his Dad are cut from the same irresistible cloth. Both hard workers, and ... they've both got that charm - you know!

I've been a mom for 16 years.

During that time, I have learned a lot of things.

I have experienced a lot of things.

I have forgotten a lot of things.

I have done many things I have to do - and like to do ... like, giving baths, teaching songs and introducing my children to nature and the great outdoors.

Then ... I have done many things I did not really like doing - you know - like, making meals (not a good cook), cleaning up puke and poop and helping with homework.

One of the things I often do that I don't particularly enjoy doing is ...

Taking the kids to the movies - children's movies - UGH!

I KNOW - there are some folks - like my husband - that thoroughly enjoy going to these movies - I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE - NOPE!

But ... I do it - JUST NOT CRAZY ABOUT THIS DUTY!

Recently, I took Alexis and Little Billy to see Kung Fu Panda.

Alexis begged me everyday since school's been out, "Please, please, please .... please take us to the movies," in that whiny voice that only 6 year old girls have perfected - *screech*

I had put her off as long as I could get away with and so I finally gave in and took them on a Wednesday evening.

We went late - to the 9:10 p.m. showing.

Alexis and Little Billy were so excited to see the movie and even more excited - I think - to be going to this "late showing".

Me --- I am dragging my I-hate-going-to-kid's-movies-unhappy butt out of the van and trying my darnedest to maintain a smile and good disposition - for the sake of these giddy children.

Halfway across the parking, I realized, "I forgot my sweater - CRAP," I blurted out.

Alexis --- so worried this meant something dire - something horrible - so afraid this might mean that we would possibly have to turn around and go back home ----- pipes up, puts a great big smile on her face, speaks in her softest, sweetest voice, "I will just sit on you. I can sit on you to make you warm," so hoping that this suggestion will solve this problem.

Now ... this was very sweet of my darling daughter and I did agree that her sitting on me might very well keep me warm, she, however, is not - is not - a tiny girl. While I sometimes - often even - call her, "My Tiny Girl" - she is not - a tiny girl.

She sat on me.

We ate popcorn.

We drank sodas.

We watched the panda movie - me and my two youngest children.

The lights came up, we threw away our trash and strolled out of the theatre.

Me -----

with my purse slung over my shoulder ...

two kids in tow ...

and ...

SINGING ----

LOUDLY -----

EVERYBODY WAS KUNG FU FIGHTING ...
THOSE CATS WERE FAST AS LIGHTNING ...
IN FACT IT WAS A LITTLE BIT FRIGHTENING ...
BUT THEY FOUGHT WITH EXPERT TIMING ...

THERE WERE FUNKY CHINA MEN ...
FROM FUNKY CHINA TOWN ...
THEY WERE CHOPPING THEM UP ...
THEY WERE CHOPPING THEM DOWN ...

Alexis and Little Billy looking up at me in utter amazement.

With a bit of embarrassment.

In complete awe of my singing abilities.

Little Billy puts his hand on my arm and says, "How do you know it? How do you know that song?"

Well ........... you know I had to set the boy straight ...

Had to make sure he was completely aware ...

I could not let it go ...

I said ...

"Grasshopper ..."

"THIS IS NOT YOUR SONG!"

"THIS IS OUR SONG!" I bellowed.

"THIS SONG WAS BIG - HUGE - WHEN I WAS A KID!" I went on - gazing into Little Grasshopper's eyes.

"OF COURSE I KNOW THIS SONG!"

(*cue mom singing again*)

EVERYBODY WAS KUNG FU FIGHTING ...
THOSE CATS WERE .... FAST AS LIGHTNING ...

I threw in a few Kung Fu karate chopping moves ... to prove my point.

Little Billy was not impressed.

Alexis found me quite funny.

On the upside ... Okay --- So, see! I'm not a total scrooge! Maybe - maybe ---- I do like the occasional kid movie ...

Join me back in 1974 with Carl Douglas ... Feel free to sing along ...

It was the first day of school.

Alexis would be starting 2nd grade.

Courtney and Chloe would be juniors in high school.

Little Billy would move on from elementary school to middle school and join his friends and 7 new teachers in 6th grade ...

The year was ... 2008.

Alexis arrived home first - all went well.

The twins drove themselves home later in the afternoon - all went well.

Little Billy ...

............ had a story to tell.

"How was your day - Little Billy?" I asked as soon as he walked in the front door.

"Fine," he said, and threw his new back pack on the floor, kicked off his shoes and then he headed for the pantry.

"What was it like?" I follow him into the kitchen.

"No big deal," he stands in front of the pantry with his back to me - eyeing the Little Debbie snack cakes and bags of chips.

"Did you see any of your friends?"

"Yes."

"Did you like your teachers?"

"Yes."

"Did you find your locker?"

"Yes."

"Did you remember the combination?"

"Yes."

"Did you take notes."

"Yes."

"Did you bring home any papers for me to fill out?"

"Yes."

"Did you eat your lunch?"

"I had two lunches today," he offers casually, while pulling himself up on a bar stool at the kitchen island.

*blink blink*

"You took two lunches - you ate two lunches?" I ask.

"No," he stuffs a handful of Lays potato chips into his mouth, "I only ate one lunch - but ... I went to lunch two times," he's stretching his neck to see the TV behind me.

*blink blink*

"Wwhat? What are you talking about?"

"I went to lunch and then after ... I went to my Art class. When I got there - they were all going to lunch - so I went again," he's munching on chips and straining to see the TV - he's very calm.

"Why did you do that?" I move to stand between him and the TV - trying to make him focus on our conversation.

"I made a mistake," he confesses. "I was supposed to go to Advisory first and then to lunch and then back to Art. I went to lunch first - by myself. When I finished and went to Advisory - it was over and they were all going to lunch - so I went again," he thinks this all makes perfect sense - he's a bit agitated having to explain it.

"What did your teacher say?"

"To go to lunch," he emphasises the word lunch like ... lun-CH and then rolls his eyes.

"I mean about you not showing up for Advisory?"

"Oh ... she said, 'Where've you been ... Little Billy?'" he again is trying to see the TV.

"Was she mad?"

"Nope."

"Didn't you wonder where everyone else was - during lunch, I mean?"

"Nope."

"Who did you eat with?"

"I ate by myself."

"Don't do that again tomorrow - m'kay?"

"Okay."

On the upside ... All I could think of was him sitting there in the cafeteria eating all by himself - thinking he was where he was supposed to be. And then ... headed off to class and walking in like nothin' was up. I would have loved to have seen the look on his teacher's face when he said he'd already been to lun-CH! I know him well enough to know that he just strolled into that classroom and even when he realized he had screwed up interrupting his schedule that ... he still acted very cool. I think he would have simply turned around - gotten in line behind the other kids and --- headed off for lunch - AGAIN! *Little Billy's mom can't stop laughing*

Little Billy is a dare-devil.

He's been a dare-devil his whole life.

He's the sort of boy that has never shown a fear of wandering into the woods alone or racing his bike up a ramp that sends him flying into the air.

He likes fast motorcycles and go-carts.

He likes pellet guns.

He likes bows and arrows.

He likes chasing after animals and hiding in dark, scary places where no one will find him.

People have often commented that "Little Billy isn't scared of anything," and it is very true.

Not long ago, I was in my room working and I heard a noise on the roof.

I went out on the deck just off my second story bedroom.

I glanced up to the roof, held my hand in front of my face to block the direct sun from my eyes. I squinted and searched to see if I could spot one of our cats or squirrels making the noise above me. Suddenly ... between the sun and me ... I saw a small boy's silhouette standing on the peek of the house - two stories off the ground.

"Little Billy," I yelled.

"Yes, Mom," he answered casually.

"GET DOWN OFF THE ROOF!"

"Awwww, Mom," he grumbled, as he made his way back across the shingles and over to the tree he had used to elevate his tiny self to this escapade of danger.

He looked back over at me, "Can I have a hug?" he asked, knowing that maybe this request would soften his mother from beating the crap out of him.

"When you get down," I answered calmly.

On the upside ... I know -- this is not good -- on so many levels. But, this is not an uncommon occurrence for this boy child of mine. Sometimes, my mom will be at my house and she will suddenly announce, "Little Billy's on the roof," or "Little Billy's up in that tree - do you see him?" I know --- this is not good. But, this child is a dare-devil. I warn him to stay down from high places - I do! It scares me to death. But, I have to admit -- I also love the idea that he is a free spirit that follows the whims that entice him to live his life at accelerated speeds and exhilarating heights -- over a boy that is trapped in a life that brings him no joy or adventure.

I hugged the boy when he got down from the roof and I scolded loudly, "YOU'VE GOT TO STOP DOING THAT - YOU SCARE THE LIVING DAY LIGHTS OUT OF ME!"

He flashed his most charming James Bond smile and said, "Okay, Mom," and then went on his way.

-

One day recently, Little Billy came home from school and begged to go over to a friend's house to play.

I became frustrated.

It was a school day and not common for him to be allowed to go to his friends' houses after school.

He continued to beg and plead. He promised that he had no homework and went on and on about how the friend was expecting him - depending on him.

I continued to be frustrated, but eventually I gave in.

I put on my shoes, grabbed my purse and took him.

In the car, on the drive to the friend's neighborhood, Little Billy thanked me profusely. He was extremely delighted and seeing the delight in his mood - it made me happy.

When we entered the neighborhood of the friend, Little Billy requested that he be dropped off at the neighborhood park, as that is where his friend said he would be.

I drove into the parking lot of the park, where there were 5 boys that my son was friends with. Little Billy became even more excited.

"Thanks, Mom! Thank you for letting me come and play with my friends," he threw his arms around my neck, hugged me hard and then jumped out of the car.

I rolled my window down and called my son back. I also called my son's friend over. I gathered information about their plans and I offered instructions to my son. The boys ran off toward the park.

I tried to drive away.

I backed out onto the street, but I could not make my car move away from the park. I turned around. I drove up and down the street a few times. I inspected the area - the houses, the cars - the boys.

When I drove back near the park, I rolled my window down again and my son ran over to the fence. "What's wrong?" he yelled. "Don't you know how to get out of here?"

I did not indicate my worries. I did not let on that I was uneasy - uncomfortable. I merely offered additional instructions to my son and then said, "I love you, Little Billy - have fun with your friends - and be a good boy."

Driving away, I could see my son across the parking lot, playing in the park with his friends. He was laughing and jumping and running. He was happy.

I drove off, but ...

When I glanced up into the rear view mirror ... I was surprised to see the eyes of a lonely mother that ...

On this day ...

Was finding it very hard to ... let go.

The little boy that I know is confident, happy and very sure of himself.

But ... on this one night, right before he went to bed, I went to him and told him that his father and I would be going to his school the following morning, early, to see the school's flag ceremony. These ceremonies are held at his school, once every couple of months, and it is in these ceremonies where children from each class in the school, are chosen, for awards. These awards are called The Pillar Of Character Awards (Trustworthiness, Citizenship, Caring, Fairness, Responsibility & Respect). When I told my son that we would be attending the ceremony - he began to cry.

"I don't know why you're going," he sobbed.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, I said, "Daddy and I want to go - we haven't been to a flag ceremony in a while."

He continued to cry. "I'm not going to win. I never win," tears were streaming down his face. "I haven't won in five years. There's always someone better than me," he was very sad.

I tried to console him, but he was inconsolible. "Maybe this time you will win. And even if you don't win, we still want to be there - to recognize everyone else that will - right?"

I had never heard him voice concern, let alone sadness, over not having ever won one of these awards before. I was sad for my sweet son.

But I left him, eventually, and he settled down and went to sleep. I was hurting for him, but at the same time I was very happy. For ... I knew ... he would receive an award the next day.

His teacher had phoned me and asked that we make sure that we attended the ceremony - as, Little Billy had been chosen from his class, to receive an award.

So, we went and we saw and we were proud. He was proud. He could not have been more proud. It was a fine moment for our sweet boy.

Walking out of the ceremony with my son, a little boy walks up behind us. He is a Downs Syndrome child and he seems to know my Little Billy.

The boy moves close to my son and tries to capture his attention - I step back and watch.

Little Billy is talking to one of his other buddies, but hears the voice of the other boy and turns to look at him. As soon as he sees this child ... he lifts his arm - without one moment of hesitation - and he puts his arm around the boy's shoulders and pulls him close.

They walk out in front of me ... my sweet Billy, with his shiney medal around his neck, and his little buddy, Jack.

He looked back in my direction - still walking with his arm around Jack's neck - and I smiled.

When Little Billy got home that afternoon from school, I asked him, "Do you know what made me most proud today?"

He smiled a great big smile, grabbed ahold of the medal around his neck and said, "My medal?"

I grabbed him into my arms and pulled him too me and squeezed him tight and said, "No. I'm proud you got that medal because I know how much you deserve it. But ... I was most proud for the kindness you showed to Jack."

He pulled back and looked me in the eyes and I could see that he was confused.

I said, "When you hugged him - in the hallway," explaining what I had seen.

My confident, happy and sure of himself boy turned and started to walk away. Before he left, he turned back and looked at me and said, "Well, he's my friend," with the sort of nonchalance you would expect from a boy that had just received an award for "Fairness".

It took 5 years for my son to get that medal, but ... on this day ... I do not believe they could have chosen a better boy!

I am walking through the kitchen towards the trash can.

I notice - sitting perfectly still - on the edge of the counter - near the pantry - a BUG!

I yell across the kitchen, "Little Billy - come get this bug."

He walks across the tile floor to where I am standing. He looks around and says, "Where - what bug?"

I point to the counter, "There - see it? Get it!"

He keeps his hands at his side, bends at the waist, cocks his head sideways, puts his face really close to the tiny creature and says, "What makes you think I want to get it?"

I step back a few steps - fearing the bug is going to lunge or flitter off the counter in my direction and say, "Because that's what boys do - they get the bugs."

He looks up at me strangely, wrinkles his nose and says, "That's what boys do?"

I say, "Yes. Now, get the bug! And be careful - it's a stink bug. Don't let it stink on you." I step forward close enough to push him towards the bug.

He jumps back and says, "It sings? What do you mean ... it sings?"

I walk over near the sink, retrieve a paper towel, walk back and hand it to him and say, "I said STINK - STINK. Now - GET THE BUG!"

On the upside ...This bug - this stink bug - just sitting on the edge of my kitchen counter - watching and listening to our conversation and not twitching even so much as an eyelash - suddenly ... stands up on his hind legs, puts his little hands on his hips, opens up his tiny little bug mouth and begins to sing ....... "A ---- Weem A Way ... A - Weem A Way ... A - Weem A Way ... A - Weem A Way ... A - Weem A Way ... A - Weem A Way ... A - Weem A Way ... A - Weem A Way ......... In the jungle ... the mighty jungle ... the lion sleeps tonight," and Little Billy and I both look in the bug's direction in total astonishment. We glance back quickly into each others shocked faces while the bug continues, with his little arms now stretched high in the air above his stinky little head, in a very high pitched bug-like voice, "In the jungle ... the quiet jungle ... the lion sleeps tonight," and he is really belting out the song now, and has thrown in a few fancy Broadway-stage dance moves to enhance his very entertaining night-club performance. Then ... the bug stops singing ... points his tiny little finger at Little Billy, throws back his head ... and laughs - HA HA HA!

Okay - So what really happened was ... I grabbed the paper towel from my brave little man's hand, squashed the "singing" bug inside of it and threw it into the trash.

(I really wish it had happened the other way ... that would have been a story Little Billy would have never forgotten).

So ... we were eating out at one of our favorite Mexican restaurants.

Little Billy is sitting next to me and across the table from his daddy.

There are lots of conversations going on at our table and yet, over all the girly gibberish going on around me, I hear my son talking to his daddy about the girl he likes at his school.

I turn to Little Billy, "What are you talking about?" I say.

He giggles, like a ten year old boy and then says, "Well, you know how I like D, right? Today, I was teasing her about such-and-such and she says, 'I don't care what Billy says - he's dumb.' So then her friend G tells me, 'If she says dumb, like she was saying it with 2 m's (dumm) - then that means that she doesn't really mean it. If she says it like dum-b ... then she means it. How did she say it - dumm or dumb?'" and Little Billy looks at me and laughs.

I sooooo understood this logic, but could not believe that my son - a BOY - was capable of comprehending it, and so I asked, "So ... how did she say it?"

He said, "D-u-m-m. That's how I think she said it - she didn't mean it."

I looked over at my husband, who was smiling a big grin by this point and then said to Little Billy, "I don't really get this whole dumm vs dumb - thing. Do you?" just curious to see what he would say.

"It's a girl thing - I don't really get it either," and he then shoved a bite of his cheese quesadilla into his mouth.

On the upside ... These little girls are 10 years old. My son is 10 years old. This one bizarre conversation leads me to believe that it is very evident that ... these 2 little girls are already very clear of their role in the male/female relationship and how to creatively manipulate those dynamics.

It is also very clear to me that their "while-we-completely-understand-the-logic-of-our-silly-codes-and-signals-but-the-male-of-our-species-will-never-quite-comprehend-what-the-heck-we-are-talking-about" tactics ... have very successfully confused my son (a male of the species) to the point that he somehow thinks he came out of this unscathed.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that dumb - means DUMB, no matter how you spell it or say it. I just left it alone and let the poor thing enjoy his cheesy quesadilla.

We went away for the weekend with some friends.

Halloween was over.

It was the end of a very stressful week.

It was a last minute excursion, but one that the On The Upside family decided was long over due - a bit of time to relax.

One of the best parts about the weekend - aside from the time spent with good friends, good food - including bunches of Halloween candy - and down-time, well deserved by all --- was the extra hour of sleep gained --- due to the changing of the clocks. The end of daylight savings.

The weather was unusually warm and beautiful for November. It was especially clear and on Saturday evening my good friend and I pulled the two green Adirondack chairs off of the front porch and out to the big yard in front of the ranch house.

We relaxed, talked and gazed up at the vast Texas sky.

We marveled at the beauty of the stars - the sheer abundance and the brilliance of the universe as can only truly be seen and appreciated, when you are away from the bright lights of the city.

It was amazing.

As the evening wore on, everyone wandered off to bed - as there was hunting to be done in the morning - leaving Little Billy, his friend and I, alone in the living room. I was watching Law & Order and drinking coffee. Billy and his friend were sitting in chairs across the room from me - each playing games on their Gameboys.

I was content.

They were content.

The house was quiet.

Then ... Little Billy suddenly says ... "Can we stay up and watch the leap thing?"

I glanced across the room. "Do you mean - the changing of the clocks?" I chuckled to myself.

"Yeah - when does it happen?" his eyes were wide with curiosity - and so serious.

I was already loving this conversation. "What do you mean - when does it happen?" I giggled.

"The time? The clocks?" he says.

"Well ..." I can hardly hold back my laughter, and before I have the chance to offer an explanation, his friend - sitting in the recliner right next to Little Billy - never taking his eyes from his Gameboy - says ...

"It's not like a ... magical event, or anything ..." and, he continues to play his game.

Then ...

I laughed.

On the upside ... Poor Little Billy - he was under the impression that all of the clocks suddenly just changed time - all on their own. Like it was a magnetic occurance or cosmic or .... something. After realizing it was nothing near all that exciting - he smiled, lowered his head and ... was sucked quickly back into the mesmerizing glow of his Gameboy. Me ... I wiped the (giggle) tears from my eyes, changed the hands on the face of my watch and then ... wandered off to bed to ... enjoy my extra hour of sleep.

I was making dinner the evening of Valentine's Day.

Little Billy was sitting in the living room watching TV.

Eventually, he came over to the stove, pulled up a barstool and sat down to watch me cook.

"How was your day today, Little Billy?"

He reached over and began stirring the pot of corn on the stove with a spoon and he says, "It was good. I gave my teachers their Valentine's gifts - they liked them," he never looked up. "I also gave a present to D."

I was surprised. "You gave what present to D?"

He looked up and cracked a sly smile and said, "A stuffed dog. One of those I bought with Dad the other day - one with a heart in his mouth - you remember," he said, batting those dark brown eyelashes over chocolate colored eyes.

"You did?" I poked him on the shoulder and he laughed. "I didn't know you gave her a Valentine's present. What did she say?"

Dropping the spoon now in the pot of corn and straightening himself on the stool, he says, "She didn't know it was me that gave it to her. I didn't put my name on it. I just sat it on her desk. Her mom says she's too young to like boys - so I didn't want to make her mom mad - ya know?"

I smiled at my sweet, romantic boy. "So ... she didn't know you were the one that gave it to her?"

"I think she knew," he said. "Everyone kept saying that it was me - but I kept denying it - but, I think she knew."

I continued to cook my meal and Little Billy sat on the stool and helped me out. A short time later, after I had mixed up the cold pasta salad with mayonnaise and put it in the refrigerator to chill, Little Billy says, "Can I have girlfriends now - Mom?"

I answered quickly, "No," and smiled. "What do want with a girlfriend? Do you think you are old enough for a girlfriend?"

"I think I am, " he said sweetly.

"What are you gonna do with them - kiss them and stuff," I leaned over and snuggled to his neck and kissed him.

He laughed and said, "No," and then thought for a moment. "Not yet," he said coyly. "Plus ... I guess I'll have to wait until next year to have a girlfriend, anyways."

"Why is that?" I asked, turning the sausage in the skillet with a fork.

"Because D's mom won't let her have a boyfriend this year - maybe she can be my girlfriend next year."

Finding this discussion very sweet and very serious, I say, "You would wait until next year to have a girlfriend - just so you could wait to have D for your girlfriend?"

He smiled and said, "Have you ever seen her, Mom? She is so worth it."

On the upside ... I just love that he doesn't have a clue how cute he is. I also love knowing that whatever girl is lucky enough to win my sweet boy's heart, is definitely going to be .... one lucky little girl!