Boy-o-Boy...emphasis on the Y. The Y chromosome that is. You know the cute expression, "He's all boy!" I now know what this means. To be clear, I am not soliciting for sympathy, pity, or a straight jacket. I have always wanted all boys, 4 of 'em. I now have 2, but if I apply the Builder multiplier, it feels more like 11.
I grew up with girls, but my best buds were often boys. I hitched along on the coattails of older boys as the "adopted" little sis in high school. In my opinion, boys were just better than girls. Simple. No tricks, games, deceit, chit-chat, or gossip. Plus, they were always doing fun things like switching street signs late at night or park district pool hopping.
As a mom of young boys, I got over my initial intimidation of their tremndous energy when I saw how easy it was to entertain them. Spin some wheels, crash some cars, and make a new train track everyday. Combine that with 90% time spent outdoors in mud, sand, or snow and there's the day.
But now, they are nine and ten. I'm not good at video games or disassembling explosives. Plus, they have their own agendas. The essence of boy...which is really-- "Who cares?" is coming out. They would rather be with friends or investigating new ways to throw something into trees.
Put away laundry? Lift the seat? Flush? Wash hands? Homework? Why bother?
I am convinced those with the Y chromosome live fully in 5 minute increments of time. Anything before or after that...seems...so..so what. It's over. It's a little hard to live with on a daily basis. But I am trying.
Because really, daily hygiene versus planning the next big experiment or life-threatening adventure? The answer is always Y Not? Y not try to drill the top of pen cap on top of the fabric couch in the family room?
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