Who is the parent in this relationship?

School has started and my son is a big second grader. Far too big for me to be kissing or hugging in public, so he tells me. Also far to mature to get notes in his lunchbox from his mother. He has always been my sensitive child, though, so he told me I can send them sometimes—just not every day.

I was riding bikes with him yesterday and ran into a guideline and hurt myself badly. Today, we were again riding bikes and he reminded me not to take my eyes off of the terrain in front of me. He calmly told me that he would look around for me because he did not want me running into anything because I was not paying attention. Who is the parent here, I ask you?

When I got home last night with my injury, it was my 3 year old son who filled a ziploc bag and placed it on my boo-boo. It is nice to raise such sensible, sweet children but sometimes makes me yearn for the days when they needed me to care for their boo-boos–no matter how minor.