07 July 2010

Macho Macho Boy

The mere thought will probably make you laugh but I was a girly little girl that loved pink, lace, bows, baby dolls and Barbie.  I know, if I weren't talking about myself I would accuse myself of lying.  I used to drive my sister crazy with all frill and frou frou that was all over the room we shared.  Then I hit puberty and the sight of our pink room made me want to vomit.

Well, as karma would have it, Gael is the typical little boy.  He loves anything that involves superheroes, football and dinosaurs.  As soon as he learned to walk he started dribbling a ball  and picking out Spiderman t-shirts and toys.  What?  You think I'm exaggerating?  Take a look at the picture below, he was only 15 months old then.

Zoom in and you'll see the Spiderman ball
There are a few problems I have with his being so B.O.Y.

One, superheroes are all about violence.  Their slogans are all about helping and saving. Yeah right, we all know its more about ass-kicking, fist-fighting and killing.  I do not buy toy guns or weapons but I can't control his imagination.  Without the toy gun he just uses his hand or the plastic wrench.  Without the toy gun to blast his enemy's head-off he just karate chops them to death.  I always try to pipe in my hippie-peace-loving crap "Hurting others is not good.  Remember superheros help people, they don't hurt people."  But that only makes him use his sonic force field to make the enemy disintegrate or accuse me of making his game boring.  Me? Boring?  Dude, you should have met me in college.

Two, I'm lethargic.  I don't even know how to dribble a ball (with my hands or my feet) or couldn't be bothered to run to save my life.  Gael is a living action figure, I simply can't keep up with him.  Sometimes he gives in to me and plays go fish, bingo or Lego.  Soon after he's itching for some superhero turmoil, wild rumpus and monkey bar swinging.

Three, I hate to admit it but I guess there still is that girly girl in me.  Dinosaurs stomping around and destroying forests and homes with their tails isn't exactly what I'd call fun.  Every now and then I annoy him and make the dinosaurs say sorry or kiss each other until he gets so agitated he cries "Mama! Dinosaurs don't kiss!"

Masculinity does not have to mean violence and I'm going to make Gael realizes this even it makes me *gasp* boring and corny.  Or even better things could just work out for themselves, he is only five after all.  I was girly till I was about 10, boys mature later so I only have 10 years to go.  Sounds right?