We are planning to go see the movie Boyhood tonight, which was filmed over a period of 12 years with the same cast. The summary says "[T]his film is a groundbreaking story of growing up as seen through the eyes of a child named Mason, who literally grows up before your eyes." I expect we'll cry.
I tried to get Sam to come along to the movie with us, but soccer practice conveniently prevented him. I suspect that the idea of leaving soccer early would be more compelling if the temptation wasn't a movie date with his parents. Even as I write, I am texting him about the job application he was supposed to submit today to Tropical Smoothie but didn't, he says, because he doesn't know his social security number. He's not very enthusiastic about job hunting, and it isn't easy to motivate a boy who would rather play than pound the pavement: filling out the forms, shaking hands, pursuing the managers, making that first impression. It's a lot of hard work and rejection, and the reward is more hard work. And less freedom. And less fun.
He's not a bad kid. He cleaned his room this weekend, and did his laundry, and helped install the fans, and walked the dog. He practiced his instrument and cleaned the storage shed, and he's on track for helping the neighbor build his deck.
In cleaning his room, he discovered five more pairs of outgrown shoes and a few more outgrown shirts and shorts. Well, whether he gets that job today or next week or next year, he'll be working soon enough, and he's going to keep on working for decades. He's going to buy his own shoes someday, and someday maybe he'll buy shoes and more shoes for his own boy. And maybe his boy, at 16, will prefer to goof around than get a job. Someday. Maybe.
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