When I Was Seventeen . . .

. . . it was a very good year.

Well, that's how the song goes anyway. Although I think back to my teenaged years with some fondness, I am quite happy to be where I am. My kids are brilliant. I know who I am. Life, for the most part, is fantastic.

My neighbour's son is 17. He has his graduated license and the pride in his being when he pulls the car around to pick up his parents is very evident. He's a good kid and looking forward to university. His grown up life is in its infancy. My ex's new 'best friend' is also seventeen. I had the privilege of seeing them together today as I was walking down the street with the wee ones. The kids were happy to see daddy. He was 'at work' using his ears (listening to a band that was inside while he sat outside) and, by the look of things his drinking arm was getting a good work out too. The 'best friend' avoided eye contact. Something to hide sweetie? (when I say sweetie I really mean 'stupid kid' in case any of you were wondering). The connection between the two of them is beyond me. Really, I find it to be a bit icky but, to each their own I guess. It's all too normal. Man has mid life crisis and leaves home, wife and kids in order to hang out with sweet young thing who is just beginning to get her sea legs when it comes to relationships and has no idea what real responsibilities entail which suits man just fine cuz he wants to hide away from his own. Where's the originality?