My younger son turned 18 a few weeks ago, and we all breathed a sigh of relief.
I remember from a criminology class in college that 17 is the peak age for criminal activity in males.
I wasn't particularly concerned about criminal activity, just general rebelliousness; he has a naturally rebellious personality, and we're both glad that 17 is behind us.
For my 17th birthday, my dad gave me a card with a horse on the outside, which was nice (we were really involved with horses then), but the inside of the card was the memorable part. I don't remember most of it, just the last two lines:
And I hope that this reminds you
of the love that's yours all year
For some reason, that was a shock. It must have been, for me to still remember it after 42 years. Not because my dad was emotionally distant; he was a warm, affable guy who was hard to dislike, and our relationship was good (much better than the typical father-son relationship I would later learn), but he didn't say he loved me very often.
Which was par for the course in most American households back then, and probably still is.
I don't know if the typical American father tells his sons that he loves them, but I do, typically at least once a day. I hug them too, not in front of their friends or other awkward times, but when it's just family.
I don't want them to be surprised by the fact that I love them, or have to read it on a birthday card.
I remember from a criminology class in college that 17 is the peak age for criminal activity in males.
I wasn't particularly concerned about criminal activity, just general rebelliousness; he has a naturally rebellious personality, and we're both glad that 17 is behind us.
For my 17th birthday, my dad gave me a card with a horse on the outside, which was nice (we were really involved with horses then), but the inside of the card was the memorable part. I don't remember most of it, just the last two lines:
And I hope that this reminds you
of the love that's yours all year
For some reason, that was a shock. It must have been, for me to still remember it after 42 years. Not because my dad was emotionally distant; he was a warm, affable guy who was hard to dislike, and our relationship was good (much better than the typical father-son relationship I would later learn), but he didn't say he loved me very often.
Which was par for the course in most American households back then, and probably still is.
I don't know if the typical American father tells his sons that he loves them, but I do, typically at least once a day. I hug them too, not in front of their friends or other awkward times, but when it's just family.
I don't want them to be surprised by the fact that I love them, or have to read it on a birthday card.
