27 Days until Matt leaves for Parris Island... It was the summer of 1993. Matt was 4 years old. His favorite show was Power Rangers. It was a karate kick here and a karate kick there. He had every imaginable Power Ranger toy on the market in 1993. His favorite was the Black Power Ranger. He was the one who a practical joker, he used dance moves and martial arts to fight. Just right down Matt's alley. My mother was my babysitter when Matt was small as well as my grandfather. My parents owned a local Mom & Pop grocery/gas station in our small town. Every day when I went to work I would drop Matt off at mother's. Mother, Matt and Papaw would eat breakfast and then they were off to the store. There was a chair that mother had at the front of the store for Papaw to sit in. We knew everyone who came in the store. It was the local hangout for the retired farmers. No, there wasn't any domino playing just a lot of conversations. Matt was in his Power Ranger mode. One day after lunch, Papaw decided he wanted a banana. He was sitting there in his chair, had the banana half peeled and had taken one bite. For some strange reason he kinda nodded off to sleep. Matt saw the opportunity and took it! He took off running, sword in hand screaming "GO, GO POWER RANGERS" ... just as he said "rangers" he took that plastic sword, swung and cut off the rest of Papaw's banana all the time running and yelling "GO, GO POWER RANGERS. Needless to say it startled Papaw. He hadn't a clue as to what happened to his banana until he saw it laying in the floor... then he knew. No, Matt didn't get in too much trouble. He just had to pick the banana off the floor, throw is away and promise to never do it again. Yes, Matt was and still is spoiled. He is the only grandson. My mother, daddy and grandfather thought he was the grandest thing since sliced bread. Anything that child wanted he got. This past Saturday we were driving down the road and I looked over at him. We were talking about just life in general when he said "Mom, I'm not a little boy anymore." "No son you're not." "I remember watching Peter Pan and wondering what they meant by never growing up and I thought they were crazy. I didn't want to be a kid forever. I wanted to get big, drive a car, have dates, get out of school, move out. But mom, now I wish I was a kid again. I now know what they meant in Neverland." It was all I could do to keep from bursting into tears. I have good days and I have bad days. Last week I didn't cry when I talked about it. Can't promise what this week will be like. I know what he is doing is the best thing ever. I KNOW THIS and I am so very, very proud of my son... but what is bothering me is my son is not that little boy any more and I'm going to have to cut the strings. Oh gee whiz now I've gone and done it. I've made my own self cry. SMOOCHES!