nonverbal communication

You might think that now that Liam is a preteen, he doesn't have much interest in talking to his mom. And you would be right 23.5 hours every day. BUT there is a magic window each morning between 7:00 and 7:20 when he forgets he is supposed to disdain me. I can narrow it down to those 20 minutes because I start work every morning at 7, and he has to leave for the bus at 7:20. And every morning, without fail, he decides that THOSE are the only 20 minutes he can tell me about his plans, hopes and dreams, and what's been happening in his life. This morning, for example, he talked to me about the DARE program at school (I have no idea what that acronym officially stands for, but it's some kind of anti-drug initiative) and how he has to write a two-page paper on what he has learned. "Mom, I can sum it up in one sentence: DON'T DO DRUGS. I don't know why I have to write two whole pages about this! I mean, I KNOW not to do drugs. I have J for an uncle!" (That last part was in reference to my brother being an EMT/paramedic/firefighter, NOT to any personal familiarity he might have with substance use.) So we talked about what he could write to fill up those two pages. And then he tells me that he also had to go to a presentation at school about nonverbal communication. And he re-enacted it for me, which was just about the funniest thing he's ever done. If I hadn't been laughing so hard, I would have taken a video.

According to Liam, this is NOT the face that you make when a friend tells you his dog has died, "because it reads as snarky instead of surprised, and your friend will be pretty ticked off." I encourage you all to take notes.