The apple and the tree
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You know that saying about the apple not falling far from the tree? Bubba is my apple. He has the same sense of humor that I do. (Jason, this explains why he’s become a fan of yours.) He’s more intellectual than he lets on which I’m also in the habit of doing. I think he’s actually smarter than I was at that age. Of course, that could be because I didn’t have the Internet when I was 15. Either way, the kid is interested in things that most kids his age don’t even understand. I’ve also raised him to challenge societal standards, accept himself and others for who they are, and that respect is something to be earned. Sometimes it worries me because he’s both sarcastic and somewhat of a protector, especially when it comes to his female friends, and he’s made a few enemies because of it including some meathead jock that’s threatening him.
I love my Bubba. We’re always on the same wavelength, to the point of having some kind of telepathic or intuitive connection. You know how they say twins have their own language? That’s how my kids and I are. And it drives their fathers crazy. 
Anyway, Bubba started blogging recently. He seemed really enthused about it so I went ahead and bought his domain name for him. I’m trying to teach him about things like traffic, netiquette, and monetizing. Right now his favorite thing seems to be Entrecard and he’s hoping to make into the top of his category. (His ad space is really inexpensive right now so if you wanna help him out, here’s his Entrecard profile.) I’m also trying to give him ideas for posts. I’ve suggested everything from reviewing video games to his thoughts on religion. The religion thing, he’s covered. And George Carlin. He even got the name of his blog, Prick My Finger, from a George Carlin bit. It has a double meaning for him because he’s diabetic and he pricks his finger like 5 times a day. Oh, by the way, if you do read it, I apologize if his language and opinions offend anyone. I do encourage him to express himself and there are worse things kids his age are doing than dropping a few F bombs.
He’s not just my son, he’s my buddy. We love making each other laugh. We spent 6 hours round trip in the car earlier this week and didn’t even have the radio on. We talk, we crack jokes, he shoots milk out of his nose. (Some joke I made about a redneck tree house… you had to be there.) Yesterday when we were coming home, it was starting to rain and we had the car windows down. We ended up having a contest to see who could leave their arm sticking out of the window the longest. Now if you’ve ever done this, you know that rain hitting your arm at 60mph feels like needles coming at you. So when Bubba challenged me, I reminded him that I’ve got five tattoos. I can stand a little stinging rain. He looks at me and says “Mom. I’m diabetic.”
Touche, Bubba.
And just for fun, here are a few pictures of the orthopedic nurse “taking his elbow off” (another inside joke) and him comparing the scrawniness of his once-crippled arm to the other.
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