Double-barrel Bagel

 I remember reading Wild At Heart before I had kids.  Well, okay, I only read part of it.  Anywho…  Eldridge writes about his sons chewing their toast into the shape of a gun.  At the time, I gave a little chuckle but didn’t think much of it. 


Fast forward.  I have a son of my own now.  We have no guns in our house – with the exception of squirt guns.  However, if you were to ask my son about his guns he would probably pick up anything within reach.  “Puh-keewwhhh!!” And you’d be shot by whatever object he snatches to aim.  Some days he picks up his toy barns and shoots with them.  The other day he actually ran to his sister’s dress up trunk and pulled out a scarf to use as his gun.  And this morning as we ate our blueberry bagels together, he began to shoot me.  Yes, I’ve been shot by a bagel.


I love having a little boy.  (And of course, I love my daughter, too!!)  I wasn’t raised with brothers around all the time, so the musings and activities of boys are somewhat new to me.  The fact that he was making guttural noises by the time he was six months old should have been my clue for things to come!  The adventure I have ahead with him is exciting and slightly terrifying at the same time.  While I love the snuggles and sounds of his boyhood, I am keenly aware that he may one day try to use a Wal-mart bag as a parachute!


I’m beginning to understand the saying, “boys will be boys!”


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