A Talk With My Teenager

It was dinnertime. Dinnertime and chaos are synonymous at our house. I had kids all over the kitchen whining and spilling food in all sorts of random places. I looked out to the backyard. It was green, breezy and quiet. I silently slipped outside by myself and hoped no one would see me eating alone is peace.
Awwww.
This was the life.
I then gazed back through the sliding glass door and saw my teenage son. My heart knew I wanted something much more than a moment of peace. I wanted my son to talk to me.
I beckoned him outside to sit with me. He complied. Not willingly, but he complied.
I stared at him in silence for a moment. You see, he really has nothing to talk to me about. But I have so much I wish I could say. I would have said,
"remember all those times we used to laugh together?"
"remember when we slid down the stairs in sleeping bags?"
"remember when I accidentally killed your beta fish?"
remember, remember, remember...
But he has grown.
He's a teenager.
And very good at it.
But I had him here, on this gorgeous night, all by myself.
 I decided to tackle the elephant in the room.
"So when did you start not liking me?"
He looked at me.
And smiled.
I love that smile.
"Ummm..it was probably sometime in eighth grade."
I've always loved his honesty. That kid is as honest as the day is long.
I respond,
"so you haven't liked me for about 18 months?"
"yeah..probably."
"Well,  you're brother still likes me and he just turned 13. How much longer do you think I have with him until he starts not liking me either?"
He smiled again.
"I'd say...you're lucky if you get another year."
I smiled back.
It was a beautiful night. I silently thanked God that my son was talking to me. Even if it was just about his dislike for me.
Moms of teenagers learn very quickly to be grateful for anything.
I used to enjoy his voice, but I've learned to accept a glance in my direction. I used to be a welcome guest in his room at night, but I am now grateful that he lets me in the door if only to say goodnight.
I used to take him out to dinner, but now I'm just glad he says thank you when I bring dinner home to him. I used to love when he said, "I love you too," but I know...deep down, he kindof still likes me. He may possibly even love me.
He has just temporally forgotten.