He sighed heavily.
"What's wrong, Evan?"
"It's just not the same."
He lifted his WWE action figure guys in a dejected shrug, "Playing with my guys. It's just...not fun anymore. Before, I thought they were real. And now, I know they aren't, and it's just not as much fun..."
Poor kid. He has always been the one with the BIGGEST imagination. From the time he could sit up, he would "play guys" with ANYthing; making his mostaccioli noodles walk around on his high chair tabletop and using his fingers as Star Wars battle figurines when no other toys were available. If ever a birthday or Christmas present was needed, everyone knew that a package of army guys or Lego men would make him THRILLED.
But now he's 12. When you're twelve, it's still fun to "play" but some of the magic has evaporated, especially when you're on your own.
I was watching him
eat inhale his dinner yesterday and noticed that the contours of his face are less boyish. He's still obviously just a kid, but...less. He's less of a child now, and the lines of how he will look as a man are peeking around the corner. His jawline is sharper, his brows are more pronounced and I can see the beginnings of a moustache on his upper lip. This summer feels like it's the end of an era for my middle kid. I hope he embraces all of the time he has right now to climb the trees and shoot the bad guys and be a child...
It's just not the same when you know the wrestlers can't 'feel' the pain you've inflicted. Apparently.