The RT is a very nice young man.

I know you’re thinking, well, I’m his mother, so what’s not to love? But I’m used to spending a day with nearly 1,000 adolescents, so I have lots to compare him with. He is almost 15, definitely soon to be out of boyhood, and the youngest of three male progeny who are all more pleasant humans than me — no contest.

An interesting combination of war monger, and cat lover, the RT is as about as easy going as a kid can be. But still waters run deep. When he’s completely over being outnumbered by the MoH and myself, he gets a sort of flat look about the eyes, and you know he is less than pleased with his circumstances at that particular moment. But he’s smart, and won’t talk back. We wish he did occasionally, just because. But that’s about as bad as it gets. Really.

His grades are good, except in The Geometry Teacher’s class. He loves science and art, and has conscientiously avoided moving his body too quickly most of his life.

His bedroom is not something I want the health department to know about. Ever. He has adopted somewhat of an attitude about his room as evidenced by the stickers posted on his door.

His current interest is in Geiger counters. We aren’t sure why.