Little boys

are interesting creatures. They bring about:

In Dads: amusement and angst. Amusement as we recall our own childhood antics. Angst as we remember that some of those antics brought us dangerously close to disaster.

In Moms: Love and pride. But Moms don't always know about the secret lives of their little boys.

In Sisters: Disgust. Utter disgust.

In other Little Boys: Respect and admiration for their honesty, truthfulness, predictability.

Little boys earn all those assessments. Adventurous and imaginative, they do some really dangerous things. I remember, during my own childhood, some boys who watched a freight train rumbling across a trestle wondered how it would feel to hang onto the underside of that trestle as a train thundered overhead. So, they tried it. They (regretfully, I was not among them!) crawled onto the underside of the trestle and held on for dear life as the train roared over their heads. Fortunately, they suffered no physical harm.

Early on, little boys learn that some of their most enjoyable pursuits are universally frowned upon by adults. It never occurs to a boy to give up something he truly enjoys, so he learns to do it in secret. In secret from adults, that is. Never in secret from each other. As a kid, I remember rolling cigarettes with dried corn silk and smoking them. When they burned too fast, we learned that dried, dead pieces of grapevine are hollow - you can draw air through them. So we cut pieces, three or four inches in length, lit the end of them on fire, then smoked them like a cigarette. We could always trust our friends to keep the secret.

Little boys are open about subjects adults never discuss. I knew one little boy who always checked his stool and classified his excrement as 'floaters', 'sinkers' or 'greasers'. I knew of two little boys who, in turn, dropped their pants and bent over. The other held a lit cigarette lighter near his friend's anus while he farted... just to see if the expelled gas would burn (I never knew their findings). Little boys like to stand on a creek bank and see who can pee the greatest distance. And, of course, little boys are obsessed with the subject of sex - a subject about which they have almost zero knowledge. As they grow a little older, boys sometime boast of sexual conquests with girls, all of which are imaginary. It is this thinking that disgusts girls.

While girls grow to avoid hurting each other's feelings, boys grow into men who delight in insulting each other. If girls/women meet an old friend on the street, each will compliment the other on their makeup, hair style, attire - all the while believing their friend has made stupid choices in each of those areas.

Two boys/men meet and the first says, 'Where'd you get that gut, Hoss... did you swallow a watermelon or are you pregnant?' To which his friend replies, 'Hey, don't criticize my gut...it took many cases of beer to get this gut. And, by the way, you'd better get some suspenders or your pants are gonna fall off your skinny ass!' Whereupon, the old friends put their arms on each others shoulders and head for the nearest park bench to reminisce and enjoy each others company.

It is this kind of honesty that makes little boys appealing. Hopefully, if not persuaded by feminists to become metrosexual, little boys grow into men who finesse their language while retaining their boyhood honesty.

Finally, watch any sporting event and you may conclude that there is still a measure of "little boy" in many grown men.