Monday, February 18, 2008

It's in the Genes

My 6 year old nephew, Jeremiah, just marched through the house with my 4 year old son, Max, in tow, and they were chanting, "Hail to the penis! Hail to the penis!"

The first thing I thought as a heterosexual female with a healthy sexual appetite was "Indeed! Hail to the penis!"

The second thing I thought as a mother and aunt was "Good lord! Already!?"

Before I had my kid, I was adamant that my son would be different from the other boys. He would be so zen he would love sitting quietly in the company of his own self. He would never engage in violent gun/war/blood play. He would not fall prey to mere primal instincts (in other words, he wouldn't think with his dick).

And then He, the Grem to Gremmity of all Gremlins, was born.

I swear before all that I hold holy that that child has not stopped moving since then, even in his sleep. And stop him from gun-play? Please! At 18 months he'd gnawed his toast into a shape of a gun and made cute, little p-shoo, p-shoo sounds with his tiny, pursed lips. And, around about the same time, he happened to catch a glimpse of a commercial that had Shakira in it and shouted out, "SEXY!!!" Only it wasn't "sex-ee" it was "SEX-AY!" Wtf? Where the hell did that come from? At 18 mos?!

Recently, I read Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and while it is a fantastic, provocative book, in one passage she talks about how she never, ever let her children engage in gun-play. It was strictly against her family's philosophy.

Yeah? Bully for you, sweetheart. That's because you had TWO girls!

Even now as we speak, Max and Jeremiah are behind me howling and leaping from the couch to the coffee table to the console shooting at each other and dying dramatically on the floor. My 7 year old niece, Arianna, is sitting quietly next to me counting up the quarters she's saved from washing lunch dishes.

Self-penile adoration, a predilection for bloody violence, and an innate, lusty appetite for hot, video chicks.

Wait a minute... was I talking about the boys or my husband? Either way, it just goes to show you, it doesn't matter whether they're young or old, it's that Y chromosome. I'm sure of it.

Y? Y? Y?

2 comments:

spielbee said...

Love you and your blog! I left a message on the last entry but I don't where it wandered off to.

Sex-ay! Love that. I sure he wasn't talking to you?

Miss you,
erin

Jonah K. Haslap said...

Hail to the penis, indeed. I've discovered my own personal mantra.

Don't try to fight it. The penis has a head of its own.