...for a different kind of girl

silent surburban girl releasing her voice, not yet knowing what all she wants to say about her life and the things that make it spin. do you have to be 18 to be here? you'll know when i know.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

boys will be boys

When I gave birth to my first son, I thought my husband would burst knowing his family name would carry on (because we're suburban royalty and he'll be heir to our massive four-figure savings account). When our next boy debuted nearly five years later, my husband leapt onto the hide-a-bed in the hospital room and beat his chest like a mighty warrior. The man is, to say the least, proud to have sons, and our boys are very boyish. The house is littered with action figures, talk of sports dominate, and when I came home with pink t shirts for them last summer, there was a collective shaking of their heads to indicate that no way in hell would they wear them.

There is a distinct 'boy smell' around the place. Except when the Tool Man is gone and it's just me and the boys.

Last night, my youngest was humming a song to avoid eating his dinner. Within moments, he was staging a full scale concert. His song of choice? The Pussycat Dolls' Don't Cha. It was with incredible range and vocal prowess that he belted out the "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me" chorus. I couldn't help myself. Halfway through, I was singing along. My oldest son soon joined the band, and, our spaghetti abandoned, we were dancing around the kitchen. Oh sure, they credit a viewing of Alvin and the Chipmunks with their fondness for this song, but I couldn't help but point out that they put a lot of feeling behind the 'girlfriend' chorus.

Then I couldn't wait to videotape them and send the clip off to their dad, who's traveling this week. "Don't cha wish your sons were girls sometime?" was my subject line. In classic "man mode," my husband didn't say much about that when he called later. Instead, he reminded me wrestling was on the Sci Fi channel later, and I should record it for them.

However, tonight, when I share today's story with him, I expect he'll mutter something. This morning, while under the guise of brushing their teeth so they could go to school, my oldest son poked his head over the banister and, with great fanfare, introduced me to my "new, improved youngest son!"

Moments later, my six year old, his shirt stuffed with balloons to create what I can only say was a mighty impressive rack, marched down the stairs, ran around the living room a couple of times like uncaged madness, paused briefly in front of me to shake his bony little ass, and then burst upstairs, where he morphed back into a boy. When they came downstairs, I asked the boys what it was they were showing off.

"It made him look fat!" my oldest said.

"Yeah. Fat." chimed the youngest.

"Huh. Because I was thinking you were showing off your boobs," I replied. "We should take a picture for your dad."

(Who I'm certain will peer into the future and wonder if he'll be on CNN one day talking about his pregnant son)

I expected them to protest vehemently that no, no we shouldn't immortalize that momentary mammary lapse for dear old dad. Instead, they tucked around the corner, where I heard them whispering (like girls) as they discussed the merits of the idea. Then they'd peek around the corner at me and giggle (like girls). Just as I was thinking that maybe I'd get those pink t shirts out for them this season, my 10 year old emerged from the corner and burst into a fit of laughter.

"You said 'boobs!'" he said, then fell to the floor laughing in a boob muttering heap. To cap off the moment, my youngest laughed so hard he made himself belch.

All boys, they are. All boys.

No wonder their dad is so proud.

Labels:

25 Comments:

Blogger Melody said...

I think you and I were separated at birth.

I've got nothing terribly funny to say, but I can SO COMPLETELY relate to this story!

As always, another good one.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 10:10:00 AM  
Anonymous TwoBusy said...

Yeah, I think your label pretty much said it all. Well done.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 10:38:00 AM  
Blogger Stacie said...

You crack me up. A couple years ago, I got that song stuck in my head around halloween time. I ran around the kitchen with green face and flowing black robe singing don'tcha wish yer girlfriend was hot like me...
my youngest son, 14 at the time, was traumatized to say the least. He forbid me to ever sing that song in his presence again (that's sooo *wrong* mom!)
Stacie

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 10:48:00 AM  
Blogger FTN said...

I still don't get why they show wrestling on the SciFi channel.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 10:50:00 AM  
Blogger FTN said...

Oh, and I forgot to mention one other thing.



BOOBS!

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 10:51:00 AM  
Blogger Bogart in P Towne said...

A proud moment.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 10:51:00 AM  
Blogger Laura B. said...

Oh my....what hilarity. I'm sure your husband just cringes at the thought of what awaits him after his travels. That is, bar none, one of the funniest stories I've ever heard. And it's precisely why I want a house full of boys. :-)

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 10:57:00 AM  
Blogger Mandy Lou said...

I'm sure the Tool Man is glowing with pride ;-)

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 11:18:00 AM  
Blogger April said...

boys, boys, boys....will always be boys! :)

and I'm in a house full of them, too...arghhh.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 11:44:00 AM  
Blogger Desmond Jones said...

When my oldest son (3M) came into our family after two girls, at first his sisters tended to treat him like a living doll. And until he had a brother, he spent a disproportionate amount of time playing with girls. Somewhere in our 37 shoeboxes of old photos is one of 3M grinning, wearing one of his sisters' dresses. . . I vaguely recall getting upset over that.

I don't believe for one minute that your boys were about 'making him look fat'. Your elder son is 10, right? Uh-huh. Boob-awareness has begun.

But, for your dear husband's sake, please don't show the Tool Man any photos of pink-T-shirted, balloon-boobed boys. At least have 'em wearing camo. . .

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 12:32:00 PM  
Blogger Mandy said...

I am living in a house full of boys... the hubby, two kids and the dog. Yikes am I outnumbered.

Usually I am fine with it, until the fart and burp humour takes over.

My husband is hankering for a girl, and thus a third kid. Part of me thinks okay... but what if it's another boy??! Seriously, 5 males in the house. I might not survive!

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 12:43:00 PM  
Blogger Phyllis RenĂ©e said...

The very best part of this story: "You said BOOBS!"

Thanks for making me laugh. I really needed that.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 12:57:00 PM  
Blogger Backpacking Dad said...

I know a good bead store, yoghurt place, and botox center you can take them to after their pap smears.

And you totally said "boobs".

Totally.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 2:24:00 PM  
Blogger Melissa said...

How come you brought them pink t-shirts? Inquiring minds want to know.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 2:31:00 PM  
Blogger 1blueshi1 said...

You know what boys like! You know what guys like! hehehe

I tried to buy Zac a pink tshirt a couple years ago, it was emblazoned with the legend "I told Mom to separate the colors", but it was no go. I've been trying to get him to get his hair cut in a fauxhawk--but again, nothing doing. Heck, I would help him dye his hair green if he wanted to! How come I am so cool and he is Mr. Miniature Stodginess???
I bet Ozzy never has these problems with HIS kids...

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 2:48:00 PM  
Blogger kimmyk said...

i think when their dad, the tool man comes home those all american boys needs to greet their dad wearing nothing but pink tshirts and balloons.

that'll teach 'em for leaving y'all.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 5:36:00 PM  
Blogger Bee said...

Ha ha ha!!! How cute!
The pink shirt thing? I think ALL men have a phobia about'em!

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 9:14:00 PM  
Blogger Sailor said...

This sounds soooo exact- although I have 3 boys, it's just about right on.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008 9:20:00 PM  
Blogger Wonderful World of Weiners said...

You have a FOUR FIGURE savings account?

Can I have a PRADA bag? Pretty please???

Hallie :)

Thursday, April 10, 2008 6:50:00 AM  
Blogger katie said...

ha! too funny, gal. ahh, the joys of having a son!! i wouldn't trade it for nothing!

Thursday, April 10, 2008 7:31:00 AM  
Blogger Wethyb said...

How typical. That's like saying "poop" and they all laugh.

Thursday, April 10, 2008 5:14:00 PM  
Blogger Choppzs said...

Umm yah, I wish i had a balloon rack too sometimes. Mine have had the air let out of them!

Thursday, April 10, 2008 6:41:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Melody - Hope you had a great childhood! Thanks!

Twobusy - Sometimes it takes me until the end to get to my wordy point! Thanks!

Stacie - That song is so stuck in my head right now that it's all I have been bopping around to. I bet if my kids were older (and didn't think it was sung by chipmunks) they'd be after me to stop, too!

FTN - I don't think we're really supposed to understand all the ways of science.

FTN - BOOBS! Glorious BOOBS!

Bogart - It's very nearly baby book worthy, really!

Laura - I truly love having a house filled with boys. Even when they miss the toilet and they won't play Barbies with me!

Mandy - The Tool Man is so full of pride it's a wonder he, himself, isn't floating through the air like his own version of a balloon!

April - Enjoy the poor toilet aiming and musky man smell that fills your house!

Desmond - Oh, they were definitely aware of the 'boob factor' going on. Proudly, later that afternoon, one of them came bounding down the steps with a balloon shoved down his pants. Camo pants, btw! So very proud of these kids. So very much!

Mandy - Thanks for stopping through and commenting! I love my house of men, and would love another child, but I, too, think I'm just a boy factory!

Phyllis - Anytime, sweetie. Anytime. BOOBS!

Backpacking Dad - I asked them if they'd be down for mani/pedi's when they got home from school, but they farted at me, and ran out the door to toss footballs. But they were still totally giggling because I said boobs. Totally.

Melissa - They were little boy Tshirts, and, the most important part is they were on clearance at the Target. Because that's how I roll!

1blueshi1 - Oh, if my boys had hair that would work itself into mini mohawks, I'd be in the bathroom every morning with them, getting their looks just right. The youngest, however, is so riddled with cowlicks, he wakes up some mornings looking like Wolverine. This, of course, makes my husband kind of proud!

kimmy - OH! Very good idea! I so should have come to you immediately with this issue! We're so down with the man business! And me? I shoulda been behind the boys, totally wonk eyeing him! Next time...

Bee - My husband broke out in a rash when I came home with the pink shirts. I was quick to point out the rash was pink, and was a good color on him.

Sailor - I wonder what delights await me as they get older!

WWW - Ha! Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got!

Katie - I don't blame you! You've got one cute, frog lovin' cutie there!

Wethyb - Amen. Lucky you, with those two cutie girls. You all can charm your lucky husband with the girl talk!

Choppzs - Those balloon racks can be high maintenance!

Friday, April 11, 2008 9:20:00 AM  
Blogger Nanette said...

Maybe they meant phat, and not fat. You know, because cones are phat. I see yoursic living large over there. :P SNORT! (I can't help it...heeheehee)

Thursday, April 17, 2008 3:32:00 AM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Nan - I pray to God (insert lame God nickname here) my boys grow up worshipping more about a woman than cones, man. u take it ez, man.

Thursday, April 17, 2008 9:25:00 AM  

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