There is something about this whole boys being manly, testosterone induced nonsense that if nothing else, makes a good story that I'm sure we'll laugh about for years to come.
This Christmas we watched the movie over and over. You know it. Red Rider Guns. You'll shoot your eye out.
Today The Little Mr. went out to play with a neighbor kid. Soon enough it was dare you, double dare you, double dog dare and of course, triple dog dare.
I guess even when they are little men, they just can't walk away from it.
So he took the dare.
Stuck his tongue to a street sign pole.
Oh yes he did.
Froze it on too.
But this is a dare.
A triple dog dare.
Can't be a wimp now. Not in the neighborhood.
So he ripped it off the pole. Said to his pal, hey my tongue's bleeding, think I should go home now.
No tears. Not a whimper.
Not even when he poured himself a big glass of orange juice for dinner.
I strongly recommended that wouldn't be the best choice, but he's a little man and can't be told. He drank it. Said it only stung a little.
I'm telling you his tongue is not pretty. Not pretty at all.
But, as dumb as it was, I'm kind of happy for him. With all the quirks that have been dealt to him this is a far stretch from where he used to be.
He recognized a dare. He felt the play ground significance of it all. He stepped up to it instead of running home, a bucket of tears.
He ripped off the end of his own tongue, but he saved face with the kid on the block who gives him the most grief.
On the other hand, he just doesn't listen! I said a zillion times, don't do that!! It will hurt!!
And I've talked about dares with my boys too. Like the best response to a dare is, no way, I'm not that dumb, you do it. Or if someone says that part to you, you say, no way, I'm not that dumb either! Let's go play football or soccer or whatever.
Oh wait, and then there's always NO. NO, NO, NO, NO.
I know they know how to say no.
Life's never dull around here. Nope. Not even for a moment.
I love it that way.