Warped Perspective

Last night the boys and I were in the car on our way to a hockey game.  The boys were chatting away in the backseat and Brendan brought up his birthday.  This is not unusual for my son, it seems that from Thanksgiving on all he ever talks about is his birthday (don’t know where he could possibly have gotten that from–given that I talk about my birthday year round).  Last night’s discussion surrounded who he wanted to invite to his party.  Brendan decided this year that he wanted to keep his party low key, and just invite some of the boys from his class over to play.

So he starts reciting the names of the boys he wants to come to the party.  Most kids would just randomly recite the names of their friends as they remembered them.  Not my kid, though.  In Brendan’s school each child is assigned a number in their classroom every year, and everything they do is labeled with that number.  The numbering system is very simple, the class is arranged alphabetically and your number is assigned based on where you fall in the alphabetical order.  Apparently Brendan has memorized all of his classmates numbers because the way he went through his classmates was by quietly saying to himself each number and then if that number belonged to a boy he wanted to invite he’d say the name.  He got confused around numbers 18 and 19, and accidentally said a girl’s name.

“Are you inviting a girl to your party?”  I didn’t care if he did, but he’d said previously he only wanted to invite boys.  He grew very offended and responded, “NO!!  Only boys, I don’t like girls!”  Which I found quite humorous given that in years past he’s had no problem inviting girls to his party, and for many many years had mostly girls for friends.  Cameron, not wanting to be outdone, piped up, “I like girls.”  Then went into a 10 minute conversation about his best friend which is a little girl from our old daycare.  She was the main reason why I was hoping not to have to change daycares for Cameron’s pre-school this fall.  The two of them have strikingly similar personalities, which floors both her parents and us (neither of us thought it was possible that there was another child in the world as crazy as ours).

Cameron’s comment opened the floodgates for debate, and the boys spent the rest of the car trip arguing whether or not it was okay to like girls or not.  The highlight of the debate was when Brendan, seeking an outsiders perspective, asked me, “Mom, does daddy like girls?”  To which I replied, “I certainly hope so!!”  Sadly, I’m fairly certain that Brendan didn’t get the reference.

Just wait buddy, in a few years you’ll be wondering why it was you ever stopped liking girls.


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