We walked the fifteen minutes up the hill to his new High School, for his induction day, on Wednesday morning. He chatted to me about Topshop, Warhammer, bread recipes, the school play and his baby cousin's love of cars. I turned to him, laughing at something he said, and thought 'he's nearly as tall as me - I look across at him, not down at the top of his head these days'.
A couple of blocks from school he suddenly said 'It's okay - I know the way from here. See you later'. I know a cue when I hear one, so I said goodbye and walked back home thinking how did this happen so quickly? I love his new independence and the emerging young man, but it really only seems a short while since he would clamber onto my lap for a story, or want to buy Action Man stickers when we went shopping.
Tonight he's at his Leavers' Prom. I heard him on the phone to his friend earlier, discussing what sort of shirts they'd be wearing. C opted for a check shirt and skinny jeans. He looked taller and slimmer than ever.
And this Sunday he's doing his first ever triathlon. He's apprehensive, but excited too. He's focusing on the finish line rather than his nerves, which I think shows an admirable presence of mind. He doesn't mind admitting he is a bit intimidated - as little as a year ago he would have bluffed and blustered his way through it all, or more likely simply not have wanted to do it. He's maturing.
And while all this has been going on I've been knitting myself a baktus scarf for the autumn. I knit very slowly, but doing a row here and a row there, it is growing steadily, and without me really noticing until I stop and look at it. There's a metaphor in there somewhere.