It�s good, I think, that I didn�t have a son. Children, on the whole, are wondrous creatures, all of them, but the differences between little boys and little girls (socially, emotionally, personality-wise, etc.) are so profound that I have little doubt that having a son would have been an overwhelming exercise in child-rearing for me. Not only do I not have the proper training or experience in raising little boys, I do not, in my opinion, have the temperament for it.
I took B to the mega toy store yesterday to shop for a birthday present for the last in a series of five birthday parties she has been invited to. Today�s party is for cute little Logan, a boy who has been in every one of B�s daycare rooms since they were both infants. This would be infant, pre-toddler, toddler, transition, and now preschool. Five different levels, several different room options for each �upgrade� and these two have been in the same group all along. They�re buddies, for sure.
A few weeks ago we shopped for all of the birthday presents at one time, and we chose a Wee Little Piggies game for Logan. Since that time, we decided that wasn�t the best present for Logan. B got a Wee Little Piggies game for her birthday, and seemed to really like it, hence the purchase for Logan. But after playing with it once or twice, she quickly lost interest and the game hasn�t been touched since. It seemed a poor choice for Logan, considering.
So back to the toy store we went to exchange the game for something a little boy might like more. Up and down the aisles, countless times, we searched for the perfect toy for a four-year-old rough and tumble boy. They have an entire section of the store devoted to little boys, so that�s where we headed initially.
Entering into this section of the store, I was aghast at what was available. Every where we turned, we were faced with �toys� that looked like monsters to me. A little boy might look around and go �Whee!� but all I saw were ghoulish figures and images of violence. These supposed �toys� are hideous, in my view. Transformers are big, I gathered. But look at them! They�re all designed to look like fiends. What is their purpose? The action figures aren�t any better. Many of them come with pretend weapons. And the number of military-like toys is astonishing. The toys, and even the packaging they come in, are dark and menacing, some with glowing eyes. After a few minutes, B actually said to me, �Mama, can we please go to the girls� section? This is too scary!� And it was. But we had to find something for Logan. We wandered over to the science section, but found nothing there appropriate for a four-year-old in my price range. Exasperated after searching for 30 minutes, we went back to the �boy� section. I was scratching my head looking at all this stuff, thankful that the forces of nature realized I didn�t have the mettle to raise a little boy, giving me a girl instead.
Finally, I saw a section of the store devoted to cars and trucks, and the like. Well, okay. Here�s something I can stomach. We found some really neat stuff there, however, they came with really outrageous price tags. Way over yonder, though, in a really small section, were the Tonka trucks. How can you go wrong with Tonka? What little boy doesn�t love Tonka trucks? At least, that�s what I told myself. I remember my brothers having them when we were little, and they seemed to like them a lot. They�re sturdy, they have wheels and other gadgets, and they were on sale. I decided on a remote controlled dump truck, marked down from $39.99 to $14.97. Bright yellow and nostalgia inducing, it was an obvious choice.
I don�t know if Logan will like it. I suspect he will. I hope he does! But the point is, I am clueless when it comes to little boys. Not only do I not know what they like, never, in a million years, would I want my house filled with the toys the manufacturers are creating for little boys these days. They�re just hideous and scary looking. And, I suspect, more than a little responsible for promoting aggressiveness and violence in children.
After we took the dump truck off the shelf, we headed over to the little girl�s section. Entering that area was like waking up from a bad dream. Say what you will about unrealistic images put forth by Barbie dolls and princess paraphernalia, I dare say no one ever had a nightmare because of her My Little Pony or Dora The Explorer doll.
Both B and I felt at home and at ease in the aisles of the girls� section of the mega toy store. Nothing was foreign or scary, and we knew what to do with every toy we saw. There were no mysteries. And this is why I think I�m lucky to have a daughter. I know what to do, most of the time. What feels natural to her also feels natural to me. And we have fun together shopping at the toy store, as long as we stay out of the scary boys� section.
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