the boy down the block

year 14

"mom, come on! i'm thirteen and i'm five foot eight! it's okay to wear a little makeup!" i begged

"Al, that's the point! i don't want you looking any older than you have to! it's bad enough that you already look like you're sixteen, makeup will only make you look even older!"

"mom, it's going to happen at some point! why not let it be now?" i asked pleadingly

"because i'm not ready for it to be now! i just want you to stay my little baby! you're already my height, but it feels like just yesterday you asked me to put your hair in pig-tails for you. i'm not ready for you to start being an adult. i'm not ready for you to not need me," she said with evident emotion in her voice.

"mom, you know i'll always be your little girl," i cooed gently, "that'll never change."

"i know, but this stupid makeup thing just does something to me. you're right though. it's time i let go a little," she said, a shy smile gracing her delicate features. "you have my permission to wear a little makeup. don't rush it though, i'm gonna need some time to get used to it," she said with a giggle.

"YES THANK YOU MOM, THANK YOU!" i shouted, rushing forward to crush her in a bear hug.

"come on," she laughed. "let me show you what i have to work with," she said, leading me to where she stores her makeup. "you have a lot to learn."