I live in a boy house. It has boy sounds, boy smells, boy clothes, and boy toys. Even the dog is a boy. Not that every boy is dirty, but they could be surrounded in squalor and not notice or care. It's only because of me (and Yolanda) that our house ever gets clean! But, that is a different story. Nick is now "in" to army: camo gear, little plastic green men with guns, toy hand grenades and toy pistols. Not the cowboy kind, the army kind. This is something I struggle to relate to. I have no memories of endless childhood fun playing with these kinds of toys. But last night I spent quite a bit of time timing Nick with a stopwatch as he practiced running through a carefully orchestrated obstacle course that he built in the upstairs game room. At the end of the course, he would throw a toy hand-grenade into a guitar case, closing the case and then running back to the starting point, finishing up with a baseball style slide.
Today, I noticed it was unusually quiet. I found Nick and Ward upstairs constructing a Lincoln-Log fort, populated with these green army dudes. I am definitely the "third wheel" in this arena. I do love my boys!!
Chris
1 comment:
If we're playing military style now, I'll be sending Ben over regularly!!
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