Monkey Boy is 12. This means that officially, the legos are gone, action figures handed down, Christmas list encompassing electronics. But when they get to this "tween" stage, in between childhood and adulthood, I catch a glimpse of the little boy he used to be. Usually I run to get his dad, so we can both enjoy it. Today, I hogged it.
I got to watch him through the tinted window while he was in the backyard. I got to watch him wrap a beach towel around his head like he was a ninja, carefully tucking the corners of the towel in.
He's still my little boy-just only when no one is looking.