Hook, Line And Sinker

Man, I don't know, he answers every question with a question, makes me crazy. Cryptic little bugger. What do I do? I mean, he's her kid, not mine. I'm not a parent, not even close. No clue where to begin. Half the time he makes wanna turn tail and run the other half  I'm stunned speechless. I swear, one minute he's a genius, makes me feel like I'm lost in space, totally wise beyond his years. Filled with these zen koans, for crying out loud. Spilling out of him like a beat poet on mushrooms, so easy. And funny. Holy wow. Cracks me up. Then the next minute he's screaming blue murder or crying or whining or gets weirdly quiet and it just, you know, it unnerves me, man. I don't know what to do. I mean, he's a kid, right? I'm the boss. Or at least I should be but he gets me tied up in knots and wrapped around his little finger. I am done for. It melts my heart and fries my brain and when he doesn't come round for more than 4 days I'm sick with worry. Am I crazy or what? Is this what happens? These little people who worm their way into your hearts and minds and take over your very being so that now I'm struggling to define myself on different levels wondering if everything I've done up to this point in my life can stand up to the scrutiny of an 8 year old boy. I think he's a much better man than I am and I'm 42. Holy geez, huh? I don't wanna screw it up, either. His mom's the bomb and she's so cool so relaxed like this mothering thing is no big deal. Whether or not she's faking, I can't tell- she's solid. Big heart, big love, deep roots, open arms. A-ok in my books. So yeah, I guess you know, they raise the bar. What was I doing before this little dude rocked my world? That's it, I'm done. Hook, line and sinker.

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