As I drove Noah to his middle school band concert, he talked about the songs he was going to be playing. No. That’s not an accurate description of our conversation. It would be more accurate to say that Noah spoke sheet music slang and I nodded my head while saying “mmhmm.”

“So then, during the spy song, I get to use all the fun stuff. Like, I use the whack thing and go clack-clack when the band goes boom-boom-boom and then I shake the things that are like maracas but aren’t and I go sha-shoo-sha-shoo while the band goes mwa-mwa and then . . . ”

After three song descriptions, I asked Noah if he was nervous about the concert. “Well, no, I mean, uh, not really, but maybe I guess I am.” I told him he would do just fine and to relax and enjoy the music.

“You just jinxed me! I’ll mess up now and everyone will hear me miss my note! Why did you do that?!?”

Sigh. Noah will not be 13 until May and I did not see the paperwork requesting early entry to teenage melodrama. This development was not pre-approved. I think I’ll just ship Mr. Adolescent off to camp with the Boy Scouts for Spring Break. They’ll love having an extra personality or three.