Wednesday, August 7, 2013


When girls turn 16, they want a nice Sweet Sixteen party, or maybe a special night out with their girlfriends.  When boys turn 16, they want

cheese balls. 

My older son turned 16 a month ago, and I'm just blogging about it now.  He had a party, and it was everything I love about boys ... fun, no-nonsense, and a little messy.

He had a few close friends over to the house.  We had soda and snacks (see above.)  They played video games.  It was loud down in that basement.  Each boy brought their own controller. 

Per his request, we had "make your own" pizzas.  This meant that Mom made her own dough.  I usually do this for the family, and its no problem.  However, I did not think this through properly.  Making enough dough for all the guests meant triple the work for me.  I should have anticipated the kneads of the kids. 

We had lots of toppings to choose from:  onions, peppers, mushrooms, two different cheeses, pepperoni ...

Did you know that making your own pizza is actually a competitive sport that can turn heated and cause an unsafe amount of cheese piling?  It can when teenage boys do it.  They might have just been high on fructose because they drank about 8 liters of soda with the pizzas.  Apologies to their dentists.

Then we had cake.

Yeah.  It's plain.  Because when you're 16, and 6'2, and you're hanging with your friends and your Black Ops crew, you don't need decoration.  You just need the basics. 

And lots of milk.

It's been a great 16 years, although it feels more like 6 years because it went so fast. 

This is one of shoes he learned to walk in.  A little sandal I buckled and unbuckled hundreds of times. 

Here it is next to the boat he calls a shoe these days.  All I can say is ... lucky me.

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