Riding in Cars with Boys

Today was (and still is, for that matter) the boy’s little friend G’s birthday.

Although G is a member of the feminine tribe, she has somehow been allowed entrance into the boy’s group of friends. She is one of two girls that this batch of testosterone-sporting, long-hair-wearing, rock-throwing, sword-wielding, stick-loving, kickball-playing, tree-climbing group of boys will actually play with, because girls slow them down, and they don’t understand Star Wars.

This morning, on the way to school, I told the boy, “You should call G and wish her a happy birthday.” This was not unusual for me to say at all, because the boy calls most all of his buddies on their birthdays and shouts out a greeting to them over the phone lines.

The boy did just that. He grabbed my cell phone, and he dialed G’s number, and this is exactly how his conversation with her panned out.

“Hi, G. Happy birthday. Yep. Well, I guess I’ll see you at school then. See ya.”

And then he handed me the phone without any other closing remarks to her.

I said, “Honey, you didn’t even ask if G was having a good birthday.”

“Mom, she sounded happy, and if a person sounds happy, then they must be having a good birthday, so I didn’t even need to ask that question.”

Clearly, we are all about conversation conservation. (Wow. Say that phrase five times fast!) Why waste verbal niceties, when you can just assume that all is well when someone sounds happy?! Where does the Y chromosome learn this?!

I added, “Well, honey, you didn’t even ask her what she was wearing on her birthday, or what she was going to do on her birthday, or anything.”

Clearly, these are all things that GIRLS ask one another.

I could feel the boy frowning at me from the back seat of the Suburban, and this is exactly what he said. Exactly. Word for word.

“Mom, I don’t even care what — GREEN SLUG BUG!!! GREEN SLUG BUG!!! IT’S MINE! NO SLUG BUG BACKS! I GOT THAT GREEN ONE!! — what she wears. I don’t care at all what G wears. Why would I even ask her what she’s wearing? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

Ladies, I’ve tried with this boy, but, for some reason, his daddy’s influence is overpowering my How to Grow Up to Be the Perfect Husband training.

And also? I’m suffering some hearing loss because of that green slug bug that drove by us this morning on our way to school.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *