Boys Will Be Boys

Star light, star bright,
The first star I see tonight;
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight.

At bedtime tonight, Nick ran up to me after looking out our bathroom window.

Completely elated, he exclaimed, "I saw the first star that was out tonight!"

"You did?! How cool! Did you make a wish?"

He placed his index finger aside of his mouth and thought quietly for a moment.

"Yes", he said smiling. "I wished for a lot of Star Wars men".

"Star Wars men? I thought you already had a lot of those."

"I do."

"OK. Well maybe tomorrow we can wish for something that you don't have already. That's the fun in wishing, right?"

Nick agreed.

"I changed my mind Mommy. I need to go make another wish."

"OK, Nick. Go ahead, Honey. But, make it quick will ya? It's late."

He smiled and ran off.

Off in the not-so-distant bathroom, I heard Nick making his new wish.

"I wish for.....a lot of swords and a few guns."

OH GREAT! What the hell did I open up my big mouth for? Now, I feel like a complete jacka__. What was I thinking?!

When we lived in GA, we had a hard time trying to avoid the introduction of the word "gun" into Nick's vocabulary. Many people hunt in the south, I guess. Every time I would turn around, there was another child in Nick's daycare class pretending to play guns. Nick picked it up quickly and has not forgotten it since. Now, he has passed on his game to Jacob and now they both run around acting like hoodlums on a daily basis.

I am not trying to sound over-protective; but, guns are not something that I think should necessarily be involved in play. Is it too much to just want my boys to be angels-to not always be interested in the blood and guts of things?

After thinking on this subject, I tried to reign in my own over-dramatic side (if possible) and ask myself: haven't children been playing "Guns" or "Cowboys and Indians" since the dawn of man? Are all boys (and girls) who play these games destined to become gun-wielding drug dealers, psychopaths and murders? No.

<Right now, I am fighting my inherent urge to point out to myself that indeed some of those children do grow up to be those horrible-type people. I have to quickly snap myself out of that line of thought; because, I will worry myself to the point of complete insanity.>

All of this boy talk makes me think of the movie, "Parenthood" starring Steve Martin. His character dressed up like "Cowboy Dan" for his son's birthday party because the real "Cowboy Dan" couldn't come. When Martin's character acts like the rootin' tootin' cowboy, the children at the party are only mildly interested and entertained. But, when Martin's version of "Cowboy Dan" starts talking about shooting guns, blood and guts all hanging out, the children went wild. He even continued his story, getting the children more excited by describing "slipping and sliding on the guts". It was actually very funny. But, in reality, part of all that is boys. It seems to be in their blood (and guts)-part of their DNA makeup.

I have spoken previously about not being able to take the little boy out of my little boys; and, really, on some level I don't want to. My boys are excitement, exuberance, wide-eyed wonder, and ferociousness all rolled into two little bodies on short, fast and unstoppable legs. Their enthusiasm and sense of adventure are something that I do want to hamper. They are both always astir with emotion. They are full of drama, love and dreams. They are my two little balls of energy. The hooligans (as Rick calls them) are just plain wonderful--even if they want to play guns, and pretend to chop off each other's leg with a stick, and karate chop one another, and "blow up" each other's forts, and... the list goes on and on.