Walsh Family Universe V2

Chapter 55
Growing Pains

"Stand against the wall," Dad said on a Sunday morning in June. "Let's see how much you've grown."

This was a ritual now, happening every few months. The doorframe between the kitchen and hallway had a series of pencil marks climbing up it, each dated and labeled. The earliest ones, from when Ash was two, were barely three feet off the ground. Now they stretched much higher.

Ash stood with his back against the doorframe, heels flat, standing as tall as he could. Dad placed a book on top of his head, perfectly level, and marked the wall with a pencil.

"Four foot eleven," Dad announced, writing the date next to the mark: June 15th. "That's two inches since March. You're shooting up."

"Good," Ash said, turning to look at the progression of marks. The jumps between measurements were getting bigger. Growth spurts.

Mom came over to look. "At this rate, you'll be taller than me by the time you're twelve."

"How tall do you think I'll be?"

"Hard to say," Dad mused. "I'm six-one, your grandfather on my side was six-three. If you take after the Walsh men, you could end up pretty tall."

Tall. After spending his entire previous life at 5'4" and hating every inch of it, the prospect of being genuinely tall felt surreal.

"Do I keep growing until I'm eighteen?" Ash asked.

"Boys usually have their major growth spurt between twelve and fifteen," Mom said. "You'll probably hit six feet or close to it around fourteen or fifteen, then fill out from there."

Six feet. Tall enough to look down at most people. Tall enough to never feel small again.

"Can we measure again next month?" Ash asked.

Dad laughed. "We can measure whenever you want. Someone's excited about getting taller."

"I just want to know."

"Fair enough. Growing is exciting." Dad put the pencil back in the kitchen drawer. "Soon you'll be able to reach the top shelf without a stool."

That afternoon, Ash caught himself standing next to the doorframe, looking at the marks. Two years old: barely three feet. Four years old: three foot six. Six years old: four foot two. Eight years old: four foot five. Now, ten years old: four foot eleven.

Almost five feet. Within striking distance of being average height for his age. And still growing.

His body was doing what it was supposed to do. Finally.

The next morning, Mom knocked on his bedroom door before school.

"Honey, can we talk for a minute?"

Ash looked up from packing his backpack. "Sure. What's up?"

Mom came in, holding a shopping bag. She looked slightly uncomfortable, which immediately made Ash nervous.

"So, you're getting older. Your body's changing. And I've noticed that..." She paused. "You're starting to smell."

"I shower every day!"

"I know you do. But you're going through puberty, which means your sweat glands are more active. The deodorant you've been using isn't cutting it anymore." Mom pulled a bottle from the bag. "I got you this. It's actual cologne. Just a spray or two after your shower, and maybe a spray before gym class."

Ash took the bottle. It was some sport-branded cologne, the kind marketed to teenage boys. The label promised "fresh" and "active" scent.

"I don't smell that bad," he protested.

"Honey, when I went into your room yesterday to put away laundry, I could tell you'd been in there even though you weren't. That's how I know you need this."

Ash's face burned. "That's embarrassing."

"It's normal! Every boy goes through this. Your dad did, Declan did, every man you know did." Mom smiled gently. "It's just part of growing up. The cologne will help."

"Do I really stink?"

"You smell like an active ten-year-old boy going through puberty. Which is to say, yes, you need cologne." Mom ruffled his hair. "It's not your fault. It's hormones. But we can do something about it."

After she left, Ash opened the cologne and sniffed it cautiously. It smelled... fine. Generic "sport fresh" scent, the kind every boy at school would probably start wearing soon if they weren't already.

He sprayed a little on his shirt, immediately regretted it when the smell was too strong, opened a window to air out his room.

Great. Now he was the stinky kid who needed cologne.

Except according to Mom, this was normal. Every boy went through this.

The right puberty. The right changes. Even the embarrassing, smelly parts.

That evening, Dad appeared in Ash's doorway after dinner.

"Hey, buddy. Got a minute? Want to take a walk?"

Ash recognized the tone. The careful casualness that meant this was A Talk.

"Uh, sure."

They walked around the neighborhood in the early evening light, Dad's hands in his pockets, clearly working up to something.

"So," Dad finally said, "you're ten now. Getting older. Your body's changing."

Oh no. Oh god. This was the talk.

"Dad—"

"I know this is awkward. Trust me, it's awkward for me too. But we need to have this conversation." Dad kept his eyes forward, not looking at Ash. "You're going through puberty. That means a lot of changes are coming. Some you've already noticed—getting taller, needing deodorant and cologne, your voice might start cracking in a year or two."

"I know about puberty," Ash said. "I went through it before. Different puberty, but still."

"Right. But this time is different. This is male puberty, and there are some things you need to know." Dad took a breath. "Your body is going to develop in ways that might be confusing or surprising. You'll get hair in new places—underarms, face, other areas. Your voice will deepen. You'll get taller and broader."

Ash kept his eyes on the sidewalk, his face hot.

"And," Dad continued, clearly determined to get through this, "you'll start experiencing erections more frequently. Morning erections are completely normal. Sometimes they happen randomly and that's okay. Your body is just... doing what it's designed to do."

"Dad, I really don't need—"

"Yes, you do. Because even though you have adult memories, this is a new body and a new experience." Dad finally looked at him. "In a year or two, maybe sooner, you'll probably start having wet dreams. That's also completely normal. It's your body's way of releasing—"

"Can we please stop talking about this?"

"Almost done. The important things: what's happening to your body is normal and healthy. If you have questions, you can ask me or your mom. And in a few years, when you're older, we'll talk about relationships and consent and all of that. But for now, I just want you to know that what you're experiencing is normal."

They walked in silence for half a block.

"Was it different?" Dad asked. "Going through puberty before?"

Ash thought about it. About developing breasts he'd hated. About periods and curves and everything feeling wrong.

"Yeah. It was different. Wrong."

"And this time?"

"This time it's right. Scary, but right."

Dad nodded. "Good. That's what matters. And if it ever feels wrong or confusing, talk to us. We're here for you."

"Even if it's embarrassing?"

"Even then. That's what parents are for."

When they got home, Dad clapped him on the shoulder. "Glad we had this talk. Feel free to never mention it again."

"Deal."

But that night, lying in bed, Ash thought about the conversation. About Dad trying to explain puberty to someone who'd already experienced it but also hadn't, not this version.

About the fact that this puberty—the right one, the male one—came with its own awkwardness and embarrassment and confusing changes.

His body was doing what it was supposed to do.

Even the smelly, awkward, embarrassing parts.

At school the next day, Marcus complained at lunch, "My mom bought me cologne. She said I need to start wearing it."

"Mine too!" Daniel chimed in. "It's so stupid."

"I got cologne this week," Ash admitted. "My mom said I smell."

"Dude, we all smell," Tyler said. "It's puberty. We're all gross now."

"Did your dads give you the talk yet?" Marcus asked.

Everyone groaned.

"Last week," Daniel said. "It was the worst fifteen minutes of my life."

"My dad tried to give me a book about it," Tyler said. "I told him I'd already learned everything from YouTube."

"That made it worse or better?" Ash asked.

"Worse. Then he felt like he had to explain what was wrong with the YouTube videos."

They all laughed, united in the shared misery of going through puberty with well-meaning parents who insisted on having awkward conversations.

"At least we're all going through it together," Marcus said. "Imagine being the only one."

"Yeah, that would suck," Ash agreed.

After school, during baseball practice, Coach Williams pulled the team together.

"Alright, listen up. Some of you are hitting growth spurts. That means your coordination might be off for a bit while your body adjusts. Don't get frustrated if you're suddenly clumsy or your swing feels different. It's temporary."

"How long does it last?" someone asked.

"Depends. Could be a few weeks, could be a few months. Just keep practicing and your body will adapt." Coach Williams grinned. "The good news is, once you're done growing, you'll be bigger, stronger, and faster. So there's that to look forward to."

In the dugout between drills, Tyler said, "I grew two inches in three months. My mom says I'm going to be six-three like my dad."

"Lucky," Daniel said. "I'm probably going to be average height. My whole family is like five-ten."

"I think I'm going to be tall," Ash said. "My dad's six-one."

"How tall are you now?"

"Four-eleven. But I've been growing fast."

"You're going to be huge," Marcus predicted. "You're already growing faster than the rest of us."

The thought made Ash smile. Huge. Tall. Big.

Everything his first body had never been.

That weekend, Mom had him stand against the doorframe again.

"It's only been a week," Ash protested.

"Humor me. I want to see if the growth spurt is real or if you just think you've grown."

He stood, back straight. Mom measured.

"Five foot even. Exactly."

"I grew an inch in a week?"

"You grew an inch in a week." Mom marked the wall, dated it. "Welcome to puberty. Sometimes you'll grow an inch in a month, sometimes you'll grow three inches in six months. It's unpredictable."

Ash looked at the mark. Five feet even. An even number. A milestone.

"Can we measure again next week?"

"How about we stick to once a month? Otherwise you're going to drive yourself crazy checking constantly."

But Ash found himself standing by the doorframe whenever he passed, comparing himself to the marks. Watching his height literally climb the wall.

Evidence of his body doing exactly what it was supposed to do.

Growing. Developing. Becoming.

That night, he used the cologne after his shower. Just a spray or two like Mom said. It smelled different on his skin than it had from the bottle—less chemical, more subtle.

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. His face was changing too, slowly. Baby fat disappearing, features sharpening. His shoulders were broader than they'd been six months ago. His arms had actual muscle definition from baseball and swimming.

He was becoming what he was supposed to be.

One awkward conversation, one cologne spray, one pencil mark at a time.

"My name is Ash," he whispered to his reflection. "I'm thirty-two years old. I'm ten years old. I'm five feet tall and I smell like cologne and my dad gave me the puberty talk and I'm growing into the right body finally."

Four thousand, eight hundred and sixty-four days to go.

But today he'd crossed five feet. Today he'd had the awkward dad talk about male puberty. Today he'd worn cologne because his body was producing the right hormones that made him smell like a boy.

All the embarrassing, uncomfortable, awkward parts of growing up.

The right way this time.

And that made even the embarrassment worth it.

He was growing.

Finally growing right.