My son Asa is twenty years old – more a man than a boy. Of course, he will always be a little boy in my mind. Life with Asa has not been dull. He got stuck in the blackberry bushes when he was a toddler because he wanted the best berries at the top of the bush. Another time he decided that he wanted to go to the store, so he got on his toddler trike and headed on down the road. He got so many bumps and bruises I worried someone might think we were beating the poor child. He got “lost” quite a few times – at Kmart when he decided it would be fun to hide in the clothes racks, when we first moved to a new home and he wandered over INTO the neighbor’s house, after chasing a butterfly across the field, over the fence, past the trees etc. He also “ran away” right under my nose. He kept taking sacks of toys outside – I got suspicious when he started taking his bedding. He had already set up a shelter of sorts on the property next to ours. I helped him bring all his stuff back. As he got older, it was fights at school – or causing disturbances in the classroom. He was suspended so many times I lost count (his ADHD was not under control at that time). He got in trouble for climbing onto the roof of the school. I had to pick him up another time because he was injured as he attempted to jump over a table. He even set a garbage can on fire when he was in Middle School (his “friends” dared him to). Luckily for him, the garbage can was outside and it was snowing so there was no real damage. Even though he was in trouble quite often, the teachers loved him. So many times I would hear from the teachers about what a great kid he was (to myself I was wondering if they got him mixed up with someone else). One year he came home with a greeting card that about a dozen teachers and administrators signed wishing him a happy birthday. He was “adopted” by his church (when I went shopping one day he decided he wanted to go to church so he went to one near our house). They all loved him (again I wondered about a mix-up – are you talking about MY Asa?) But it was no mistake. It was my Asa. My Asa – a goofy kid, now a semi-mature young man. No matter how old he gets though, he will still be my AsaBud – my little tow-headed rabble rouser. He really is a great kid afterall.