When my son, Seth, calls me on the phone, I'm always surprised, particularly by two things: That a 13-year-old boy would call his Mum just for the heck of it. That his voice is disconcertingly deep. This last point unsettles me. When did my little boy get this voice? There's something about the phone, this disembodied voice, claiming to be my Seth, that really gets me. Growing up happens too quickly but in that same creeping way in which you don't realize it's happening until it's too late and it has already happened by. It doesn't matter if you are the kid who this is happening to or if you are the adult watching this happen to your children. It's strange no matter what your vantage point is. When did my son's voice get so deep? When did he stop referring to his underwear as "butt covers"? When did he stop really hugging me? Now he tends to give me these begrudging, noncommittal hugs in which I suspect he rather avoid the entire situation alt...
Notes to My Future Self.