easter_rainbow.jpgMy 15 year old son is so typical.  He’s knee deep in finding himself, lately with a guitar strapped to his person.  He got him a new electric the other day and it’s like that thing is superglued to him.  On the one hand, it’s driving me nuts hearing those same songs over and over, but, the exciting thing is he’s getting better at it everyday, figuring new licks out himself.  He’s found one of his voices and that’s fun to watch.  I can’t help but wish he’d find a less head banging, thrashing, loud sort of voice, but, it’s a voice nevertheless.

I gave the Manchild his Easter basket late last night and if I wouldn’t have known better, I’d have thought I saw a twinkle in his eye like his little Easter goodies made him warm and fuzzy.  My suspicions were confirmed when he said “Hey, there’s Peeps.  My peeps” and he commenced to tear into them like he was about 5. 

It was a sight to see the boy eating Peeps whilst listening to Black Sabbath. 

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