He figured out a version of the eye roll. Woo. Hoo. I think?

"Max, what do you want for dinner tonight?" I ask.

Max looks at me, tilts his head to one side and stays that way until I respond.

"Oh, yes, I should know: steak!" I say, Max's current food obsession (and yeah, spaghetti was a far easier meal habit to support).

Max nods enthusiastically, and I grin.

Max has mastered the eye roll, or his version of it. I am not totally sure why he can't or doesn't roll his eyes; it may have to do with muscle control. I've joked about being grateful to escape this bit of teen 'tude, but the neck roll is part of Max's evolution—adolescence, communication—and it's cool to see.

 Like its obnoxious cousin, the eye roll, the neck roll says it all with a single word:  

"Max, you need to turn off the TV now because you've been watching fire truck videos for an hour!"

[Neck roll = get off my case.]

"Max, do you really need to go to Home Depot again?"

[Neck roll = I can't believe you're even asking that.]

"Max, please put your clothes in the laundry basket."

[Neck roll = chores suck.]

"Hey, Max, where should we go to on our next vacation?"

[Neck roll = California, DUH!]

So far, Max has not given me the neck roll when I talk or laugh when we're in public—my presence doesn't seem to mortify him...yet.

Here's to progress of all kinds.