Change is not always a good thing
I looked at my youngest son today and realized that he has grown up almost overnight! Gone was my blond cherub and in his place stood this tall young man, cigarette in hand, with a bored expression permanently in residence! He reminds me of Andrea at his age. Oh my God! It's starting again. Pierre, the youngest of my older children is becoming someone foreign to me. It's not that I do not want my children to grow up. I wish only the best for them. It worries me, however, that historically, my children seem to have inherited the Grimaldi bad choice gene. This gene tends to activate in the teen years and have a very strong influence until the mid to late twenties. This it usually dissipates(except in the case of Stephanie, of course). Looking at Pierre, I would venture to say that he is in the first throes of the gene. God save us all.
It is my karma, Maman, to have to watch my children stumble through life just as you had to watch me. How it must of tortured you to watch me rush head-long into disaster again and again. I truly do not know how you endured it, Maman!
It is my karma, Maman, to have to watch my children stumble through life just as you had to watch me. How it must of tortured you to watch me rush head-long into disaster again and again. I truly do not know how you endured it, Maman!