What is it with boys and guns anyway?
Have you ever noticed that you don’t have to actually hand them a play gun, because everything–EVERYTHING magically has the ability to become one? Rakes…tripods…cd cases…balloons…bread.
In their mind, every inanimate object within their reach, has the innate ability to maim. This is a skill that only boys have–or, I might add, want.
Of course, this skill puts everyone in their rifle scope every waking moment. We wouldn’t want to waste precious practice time, would we? Consequently, no one is safe.
In fact, I remember helping 3 year old Daney boy get dressed one day and his little thumb-and-finger-gun kept being loaded and fired too dang close to my head for me to like it.
Finally, after having my ears and chin and both eyes taken out by Hop-along’s imaginary bullets and a bit weary of his gun hand waving in my face, I held on to his arm and said, “Hey! You know, it isn’t very nice for boys to shoot at their mommas.”
His eyes immediately filled up with tears and he collapsed in a heap in front of me.
“I wasn’t shooting my momma.” Oh, he was wailing now.
“Reeeeally?” I said.
And I’m Mother Goose.
He pulled himself up and wiped at his nose with his sweatshirt sleeve. To the washer with that one.
“I was killing the bad guys….
The “Mother of the Year” title just flew past me…