Big, gangly, nearly men
Filling the space with their loudness
Guffaws and sarcasm in equal measure
Bad words spilling out of their child/man mouths (sorry mum)
Jeans at half mast, Calvin’s on show
Playing games of death and destruction in my living room
Eating pizza with their man sized hands
Mending punctures on their boy sized bikes
Music blasting their skulls
Hormones blasting their bodies
Changing and growing
Knowing so much, understanding so little
Piling into the street like a pack of oversized puppies
An unexpected “Thanks Mum”
I think
Your welcome son
For all I have done
For the child that was
And the man to come
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