Not that kind of boy crazy. No, the kind of crazy that happens when it's All Boys, All the Time, which seems to be the case more often than not in this place of boy babies.
A climbable farm utility vehicle plus a dog? Boy heaven, right there.
A swing full of juvenile testosterone. And my friend Alyssa, who is the mother of two of these boys, bless her patient and courageous heart.
These three are going to be an even more formidable trio in ten years or so. And in 15 years, all of them will be driving. God help us all.
4 comments:
Which dog is that? Color says Otty, but she isn't shaggy, if I'm remembering them right.
Word verification: dessessi -- how a very self-confident Scottish man with a lisp describes himself
That's not one of our dogs--it's Alyssa's dad's dog. The picture was taken at his house when we did the cider pressing. That dog, by the way, turned out to be very protective of children and actually snapped at me when I went to pull Cubby off the tractor. She didn't connect, but it was still kind of alarming.
I don't have anything against boys. I heart them. I even married one and thing he's pretty dang sweet.
But every time my daughter comes up to me with her doll to put the pinafore back on (will anyone even know what that is in 10 years?/) I feel a secret happiness that I have a girl.
If nothing other than the balance of gender power in our house is so female oriented my H doesn't stand a chance.
Parker started driving two weeks ago. Lord help us all. Makes me crazy nervous, but it's a rite of passage all boys (and mothers) must go through.
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