Boys Will Be Boys. I Guess??February 8, 2010 at 11:38 pm | Posted in Giggles | 5 Comments
I sit here. I steal a glance at my cookbooks (and an animal cracker from Lollipop). What to make for dinner??
Enter Giggles. He grabs a plastic bowl from the cabinet. Throws it against the stove. Blap!! He laughs, the next bowl already in his fist. Blap!!
Pretty soon, the whole cabinet is empty. Bowls are strewn across the kitchen. A Tupperware graveyard of clear plastic ghosts.
Curiosity Killed the Tupperware
He does this nearly every day. Usually, only half my brain notices. (You know, the half that controls my balance as I weave through the BPA-laden minefield.) The other half is usually busy. Planning dinner. Cooking it. Taking princess jewelry off the cat. Remembering the laundry I forgot in the dryer yesterday.
But today, I notice. (Anything to keep from making a decision about dinner.) And I am curious. Why? Why in the world?
Hit Me, Baby, One More Time
Then all of a sudden I have a thousand questions for him. All variations on a theme.
Why, for example, does he load up the doll stroller with his favorite cars, trains, and books? And then crash it into things at breakneck speed? Howling like William Wallace all the while?
Why does he fling magnets off the fridge? Usually into the dog water?
Why does he empty the silverware drawer of all the spoons and toss them one by one on the tile, like out-of-tune handbells?
Why does he collect a leaf, a rock, and a stick from every place we go?
Why does he pelt Lollipop with rubber duckies in the tub? Every. Night.
Perhaps you see a pattern.
I’ve posed these questions to friends who are moms of boys. And the response is always the same: (1) Shake head. (2) Laugh. (3) Say with whimsy, “Boys will be boys.”
Yes, but surely. Surely there’s more. Surely he doesn’t throw things just for the sake of throwing things. Nooooo, not my child. There must be a reason.
Is this kind of behavior modern DNA’s interpretation of cavemen hunter-gatherer tendencies? In the absence of mastodon to stalk and rival tribes to attack, do boys find viable substitutes in Tupperware and Oneida silver? Is Giggles destined to be a Gold Medal shot-putter? (I mean, the kid’s got velocity.)
Boys Just Wanna Have …
But as I watch Giggles plow through the plastic, I realize maybe I am over-thinking. Because, you know, my female ancestors fashioned clay pots, constructed primitive alphabets, and birthed babies in the fields while simultaneously harvesting nutritious berries. Thus, it’s in my DNA to multitask and, OK, occasionally over-think.
What if he just likes it? Likes to throw/fling/toss/pelt/ram/chase. Is it that simple?
Yes, maybe it’s in the genes. Maybe he’s working on some all-important set of skills that will help him survive nuclear meltdown. Or at least get him his Eagle Scout badge. But, maybe, at the core, it’s just … fun?
But I can’t think about it any more. I’ve got dinner to make. Laundry to fold. Alphabets to invent. I am woman. Hear me multitask.