Walking across campus after my morning class, I heard shouting and laughing that sounded a lot like young people’s voices.
Not college age young, which from my vantage point is very young, nor were the voices kid-let young.
No, these voices sounded like “teenager” young, and in fact, like “my” teenager.
Sure enough, I looked across the pasture, which is what we call it here, and saw my teenager and a bunch of his buds playing football—something that causes me high anxiety.
I don’t know if he saw me—standing next to Ross Hall—taking photos.
If he did, he ignored me, which he is pretty good at these days.
I don’t know.
There’s just something really cool and comforting about strolling across campus and seeing your son, playing around with his buds.
I have to ask: who is this tall, young man-boy, with his cap nonchalantly perched backwards...
I don't like to post photos of the teenager, but I figure he's too far away to recognize, unless you know him.
I think, in the second and third photos, his baseball cap looks a bit like a beret making him look a bit like Che.
On that note, his Spanish teacher told him his first day in class that he looks just like a young Pete Sampras.
