Friday, February 8, 2008

Playing house with the Hatfield's and the McCoy's



My boys often say and do things that I know the parents of little girls never have to hear or see. Like for instance, how there seems to be a need inherant in little boys to fill various containers (buckets, pots, pans, and well...let's face it, anything that is capable of holding a liquid) with pee. I'm sure my brother - the father of three little girls - has never had to hear the statement "Dad!!! Maddie just pee'd in her yellow beach bucket!" And I'm almost positive that he's never had to bring the trash can down from the upstairs bathroom, hold it in front of his daughters and say "GIRLS! Who is PEEING in the TRASH CAN??!!??!! DO NOT PEE IN THE TRASH CAN!! Do you hear me?! I better never find pee in the trash can EVER again!" as they squirm and smirk at each other at the dinner table. I think I can say with some certainty that it just doesn't happen to him. Or to any other parent of little girls. (But by all means, correct me if I'm wrong....)

And tonight I was struck by another moment that I think is unique to little boys -- or perhaps just to my little boys. They were playing over at the neighbor's house, and after an hour or so they came back home for dinner. Landis filled me in on all the particulars when they came in the door. "Mom! We were playing "house". It was so fun. We all had guns and we shot each other.........! Like this!!" And then he collapsed on the ground with his tongue hanging out, because I don't know if you know this or not, but that's how you die. Your tongue hangs out.


"House"? They were playing "house"? This is not the game of house that I am familiar with. I always thought that "house" involved taking care of babies, and doing lots of dishes and cooking all kinds of meals, and maybe pretending to clean while you made an enormous mess. It never occured to me that the game of "house" should also involve guns and shooting at your neighbor. But maybe that's because I live in the wrong part of the neighborhood. Maybe it's because I wasn't born into a family feud. Or maybe, just maybe, it's because I'm a girl.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

The "playing house" part of your story--I have no comment. It is absolutely true that little girls play a different type of game than little boys.
HOWEVER, when it comes to going potty, I do remember a little 3-year girl who insisted to her elderly babysitter that she had to do #2 in a plastic sand bucket, insisted that her mother let her, ---and after insisting that it was what she did and what she would do, (because she WAS an incredibly head-strong little girl), she actually DID it!!The elderly babysitter was appalled by the behavior and probably even more appalled because she had to clean it up. The elderly babysitter made no bones about ratting the little girl out to her mother, who was mortified and exasperated by the very idea of her little girl pooping in a bucket. Needless to say, the elderly babysitter never babysat for the strong-willed, crap-in-a-bucket little girl ever again. And the little girl's mother had to see this woman from time to time around town. (Did the mother mention that the elderly woman was the wife of the Episcopalian minister?) AHHH---the old cliche of "what goes around comes around" and something else about God's sense of humor, makes life so fun and SO just!!!
Peeing in a trash can? Just a chip off the old block, I'd say.