Boys will be … Nutty


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Maria begged me to take her to lunch this week. I asked her if she wanted a friend to come along. On Sunday night, she was adamant that it should just be me and her and Mario. By Monday night, she had decided that she wanted a friend to go and no Mario. Mario had already heard that I was planning a lunch outing, however, so he rightfully demanded to be able to go too and bring a friend. It’s such a lesson in girl and boy behavior to take these kids out to lunch. Maria and her friend giggle and talk quietly. They order their lunch (which by the way is $29 at fricken’ Panera between two bowls of soup, two smoothies and two desserts – outrageous!) and sit at the outside table politely.
Then there are the boys. They throw things at the girls during the car ride to Panera. They tackle each other on the grass as we walk from the car to Panera. They refuse to tell me anything they will eat at Panera besides chocolate cookies. And they try to embarrass the girls. My god. I thankfully managed one good photo of the girls before the boys photo bombed with bunny ears above Ri’s head.
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I took the boys to Stauf’s and all they wanted to do was play fight. I tried to get them to eat a bagel but after a bite they would go back to chasing each other. Now, I could have put on my disciplinarian hat and forced the boys to sit and eat…ha. That’ll be the day. I don’t have it in me. So I tried to interest them with questions.
“If you could be a super hero who would you be?”
“Superman so I could punch someone in the face!”
Hysterical laughter.
Not exactly the thinking I wanted to generate.
“If you were an animal, what would you be?”
“A tiger so I could scratch you.”
Belly laughter.
I stopped the questions and went back to letting them wrestle.
I heard a “mom” shout up the street and saw two of my own gender walking down the street sipping on smoothies.
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Ahhh, kids I understand. As I snapped their picture, Mario and his friend blew past me calling each other “Dumb” and “Stupid” and poking one another. My girlfriend with all daughters tells me I should love the fact that my son is not at all into the drama of who likes who and petty name calling and spats, which is all she deals with in her three girls.
I’m not convinced.
But at least he counterbalances his rowdiness with kisses and snuggling in the evening. Yet, that’s when Ri starts to get her ‘tude going on. Ahh, sweet parenthood.>

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