My oldest son started high school today. He's fine with it of coarse, but I am flipping. I am okay with the fact that he is three inches taller than me. It's okay (as long as he's not a wise ass) that he is smarter than me. I am not one of those Dads that doesn't want his kids to be better than him. I want them to be WAY better than me. He's at that age, and I can no longer protect him. He's learned all he wants to learn from me. The world is going to do the teaching from here on out.
I remember my first day at Ft. Pierce Central. I was 5'2", a buck-o-five soaking wet, and I got off the bus with a sign on my chest that read: "Please screw with me, I have no freaking idea what I am doing."
My brother Chris was there, and proceeded to bully the whole school on my behalf, bypassing long lines, and getting me to my first class. It was one of the many times he came through for me, but I am not sure I was ever more grateful to have him boss me around, then I was that day.
When I get home today, I'll run through the house to find him. I will ask what it was like, and he will say:
Fine, uh.... I'm in the middle of a game Dad.