As you may know, we had four daughters before – surprise! – we had our son.
I always scoffed at people who said that boys were so very different than girls. After all, my girls were all different from each other. How much more different could boys be?
Well.
My husband, Dirk, decided to get 5-year-old Jacob a beginner’s toolkit for Christmas. He even made Jacob a cool little wooden structure with bolts and screws to help him learn, but it turned out that our boy was not interested in a practice toy. It was as if we had just handed a piano to a dormant child prodigy.
First, he unscrewed all the hinges on the door to his book cabinet. He’s taken apart several toys and removed the handles off of most of our furniture at least once. I saw him investigating the plumbing under the sink, and had to very firmly tell him “No.”
Recently we were having a family discussion in our living room. Jacob had become wiggly and moved to the floor next to where I was sitting on the futon. After a few minutes, I looked down to see what was keeping him so occupied. He had his tools (how did they get there?) and was attempting to disassemble the futon, which four of us were sitting on.
All this without hiding anything, without mischief. He just knows what needs to be done, and does it.
Words like “tank,” “camouflage,” and “righty-tighty-lefty-loosy” came to Jacob as naturally as the ability to and write with his right hand.
Yesterday Jacob made a mud puddle, and was trying to get our clean, white, female dog to roll over in it. When I asked him why, Jacob said, “To get dirty.” (Boys, I have found, typically give less complicated answers than girls). When I asked why he wanted the dog to be dirty, he said, “To be like a boy.”
When Jacob was a toddler, he used to waddle over to the dryer where I was folding laundry. He would put his hands on his hips, lean forward looking into the dryer and jabber. It took me a few times to remember where I’d seen that stance before: He looked oddly similar to his dad and grandpa huddled around a car engine.
He has had his moments playing with Care Bears, but in his hands they roar and wrestle. When I once saw him playing with Polly Pockets, I did a double take – but he was only using the skirts to make toy weapons.
Jacob’s feelings on what’s gross and what’s acceptable also vary from the girls.
Megan was eating a pacifier lollipop that she had hidden away and forgotten about. After she’d enjoyed it for a minute or two, I happened to look at it: What had once been a purple pop was now a nasty shade of brown.
I told her she was going to have to throw it out and she reluctantly went over and tossed it in the trash. Jacob had longingly watched her brief enjoyment of the pop. When she walked over to throw it out he followed along behind. As she walked away from the garbage he stopped in front of the can and leaned over.
“Uh…” I started to say, but not fast enough. Quick as lightening, he’d picked up the pop and plugged it into his mouth. “Spit that out!”
It is a joy having this hilarious and occasionally dangerous little boy in our family. His most recent adventure with the book cabinet in his room. He was removing all the books, boxing them up and taping them (so far he’s gone through about half a roll of scotch tape).
I asked him why he was doing this, and he told me that he’s clearing the spot so he could install a bathroom in his bedroom. When I explained to him the plumbing issues involved, he considered for a moment and then said, “That’s alright. I’ll just put in a kitchen instead.”
