THEN Where Will I Be?

A boy Dylan knows from church came over for a few hours, his first visit. We’d been meaning to have him over for months, but Dylan just didn’t seem able to set up the meeting. So when the boy’s mom emailed me, as someone in charge of the upcoming “Surviving High School” small group, I asked if he could come over.

“He would love to come over,” she emailed. And we set up a day and time, no problem.

As I write this, the boy has been here for slightly more than two hours. During that time, the laughter has been constant. These deep, rumbling chuckles and guffaws explode over and over from these kids – and I keep forgetting that they aren’t full-grown men. Their low voices and the “mumble-mumble” things that happen between guffaws sound just like my husband.

It’s amazing how often I forget that Dylan’s voice has changed. I heard him out in the yard playing with Shane one day and thought, “Oh, Bill’s home early from work!” But no – Dylan just sounds like my husband now.

My husband is a wonderful man, and I like his voice, and his low, deep laughter. But conversations can be difficult sometimes.

So I am sitting here, loving the fact that Dylan is happy – his laughter is so beautiful, at any bass level – and also realizing: Hey! This is going to happen to Shane, too! And THEN where will I be?

I am the only female in a house full of males. We got a female dog – which was supposed to help, but didn’t.  I am not a frou-frou kind of girl. I don’t care about shopping or dressing up in fancy clothes or any of the stereotypical “girl” things. I have always been thrilled with my good fortune at having two boys.

But the deep guffaws from Dylan and his friend remind me: girls are different. Dylan and his friend are so quiet, except for the mumbles and the laughter. They aren’t having deep conversations. They aren’t asking each other questions, and they take turns when they talk. They are much, much quieter than girls. And I’m fine with that.

Females tend to talk more, and we enjoy female companionship, if only for the reason that we have someone who talks the way we do. Female friends will interrupt us without thinking – and it won’t matter because that’s what we do. We’ll talk over one another, laugh when nothing’s funny, and make beautiful memories, just sitting together.

I realize now – as always, too late – that these are things I did with my boys when they were younger.

So in the future, when Bill, Dylan and Shane have friends with whom to mumble and guffaw, what am I supposed to do?

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