I don't get freaked out about my age usually. At 30, I still consider myself relatively young. (And it helps that my mom still refers to me, my brother, and our respective spouses as "the kids"). But I had one of those moments recently when you realize you aren't 17 anymore.
I received in my mailbox last week a graduation announcement. From the little boy I use to babysit. The one who is still about 4 years old in my mind. The one who was a ring bearer in my wedding. The one I thought of as a little brother. Yeah, he's graduating high school this month. Quite the good-looking young man, too! (I didn't just say that.)
Congratulations Brandon!! I'm so proud of you! (And I take the smallest amount of credit for your success - after all, I did teach you to snap your fingers.)
