Differing Views

Unfortunately not too many boy adventures to report. G2 came over only for a few hours Saturday night. At first, G and G2 had a blast together, but G2 just didn't want to be without Mom and Dad for the entire evening. It's understandable, they are just bridging the gap between being 4 and 5 years old. Usually it's all about Mom and Dad during this time. Our last attempt at overnight with friend Jacob, ended early as well, with my husband delivering a sobbing boy home at midnight.

That's more of what I would expect for overnights at this age. G has been overnighting since he was 2 and we've not had any problems. To my knowledge, has never gotten terribly sad at leaving M and I for the entire night. He seems to relish it. Either I am lucky or he really *is* that much of a bullheaded Taurus. ("I am going to go do this." End of conversation.)

Yesterday, prior to G2's arrival, G was out on the back deck and ended up with 3 splinters in his foot. As with any kiddo, he was devestated by the state of foreign objects imbedded in skin. I swooped him into the bathroom and got him on the toilet lid for a foot inspection. One splinter was on the surface and just needed a little tweezer action. The other two splinters were deftly buried under the first few layers of skin and would require both a needle and the tweezers. G looked at me with wide eyes, fearful of my diagnosis.

Me cautiously: "Honey, I am gonna have to use the needle to lift up the end of these splinters, they are a little deep."
G in denial: "No, no needles Mom."

I proceeded to explain how I was going to need to use the needle and talked him through the cleaning of the needle and how I was going to use it. I lightly scraped my skin and his, and still he was skeptical.

The first splinter was easy to remove. The second took a little more concentration. I bent my head down, and proceeded to work at lifting that little sucker. G's skepticism turned into fear of my every movement until....

G suddenly, wonderfully, momentarily sidetracked: "Mom? You have a bald spot on your head."
Me, indignant and trying to concentrate : "I do not!"
G, peering closely at the top of my head: "Yes you do, right there," He touches the top of my head towards my hairline.
Me glancing at him: "No I don't!"
G: "Yes you do... and it's really long."
Me: "That's called a part."
G, indignant back: "Well, *I* don't have one."
Me, now smirking but still working the splinter: "That's because we've always combed your hair all forward. We could start parting your hair if you like."
G, horrified: "Uh, no. I don't want one." Visibly shudders.

I guess I have a sense of how M feels when we tease him about his growing bald spot. I don't think most men take it as hard as a woman would though. And personally, I find my hubby's bald spot sexy... but one of my own? I shudder at the thought too.