Although more of my blogs focus on my relationship with my daughter, I do have a son. I think my blogs about Lil Gal stem from my desire to make sense of my relationship with my mother during my more youthful years. I never imagined myself being able to parent a girl child but a boy child – oh I have wanted that since sixth grade. Yes, I actually decided I wanted a house full of boys when I was in the sixth grade. It would have been the total opposite of what I had during my childhood. I was an only child and I frequented the household of my first cousins which was a household of four girls. You can imagine the shenanigans with us – I will entertain you later with some of those tales.
So, the first child is a boy and he quickly earned the name of Big Boi because he grew so fast. His feet were a triple E in width and we were so in love with him. I never feared raising him because I had no reference point. I had a husband to help and we jumped right in, he was so easy. As long as you fed him (a lot) and changed him, he was content.
Fast forward a bit to him being about four years old. He and his daddy wrestled faithfully. He was a rough rider and ready to “get at you” any time he was given an opportunity. It was a normal occurrence for the two of them (father and son) to run through the house or roll around in the living room yelling “BODY BLOWS” as they pretended to box. So, while walking through the mall with him and Lil Gal, I took little notice of him saying, “body blows,” every so often. The only thing that resonated with me was how loud he became. It almost seemed like a honing device, as I reflect on his behavior. He would begin with a whisper and gradually increase to a final, BODY BLOWS!” Each time he reached the loudest level, Lil Gal would look out of the stroller and laugh at him as if he was directing his attention to her. Of course I was good because they were both pleasantly entertained which equaled a good trip to the mall.
Later during the day, as I was preparing a meal for us, Big Boi started yelling the favored chant, “body blows, Body Blows, BOdy BLows, BODy BLOws, BODY BLOWS, BODY BLOWS!” I turned around to see what had his attention fully expecting to see him running at a full sprint to pounce on Lil Gal – I often caught him midair with this intent. Nope, she was sitting casually in the floor laughing at him but she wasn’t preparing to dodge out of the way. Just as I was about to turn back to the meal preparation, I realized he was staring at the television. There was a heavily endowed woman on the screen with her BOOBS screaming at the screen! And out of his mouth, “BODY BLOWS, BODY BLOWS, BODY BLOWS!”
I looked at Big Boi and looked at the screen and back at Big Boi. I said, “Boy, are you looking at her breasts?” He giggled so hard that it was hard for me to hold my resolve. I quickly sat him down and explained patiently and age-appropriately the female body and how it is different from men. I reminded him that he had seen me nurse his baby sister with my breasts and he knew about them. I concluded what I thought was a very convincing conversation, “And besides, your grandmother and I both have them. So it’s not like you haven’t seen them before.” To which he sarcastically and much too maturely replied, “Yeah, but they don’t look like hers!”