Boys will be boys

Shortly after my lovely Mrs. and I were first married I discovered that she is a somewhat easy to scare, now I don’t mean this in a real fearful sort of “we are all gonna die!” I mean in it in the “stop jumping from behind doors and scaring me. I almost peed my pants, you jerk”. This discovery has brought me great joy over the years (and a red hand mark on my person from time to time).

I have become quite skilled at the art of laying in wait for my unsuspecting victim then bellowing a loud Raarrr at the instant before they become aware of my presence. It was only a natural progression to subject my children to the same type of high jinks.

I was all to pleased when I began instructing my oldest in the art of “go scare mamma” I love seeing him softly trot off into another room with a look of excitement and the posture of a predator, shoulders drawn up and hands raised into a little claw poses. I wait nearby to hear the sound of his attack ,which I find as enjoyable as acts perpetrated by myself directly. I must say that my son has been a victim of my surprise attacks and those of his mother as well, a number of times and has easily adapted many of my techniques. In addition he has shown natural skill and athleticism that all athletic coach would be looking for and simply can not be taught.

Now that we have a second son I have begun the training program for him as well. This program as always started with teaching him what it is like to be the prey in a surprise attack. This became especially focused once he began to walking freely around the house. Yesterday my heart strings were plucked as I watched my eleven month old son quickly toddled down the hall after his mother saying Raaarrr without any prompting from me. It is so pleasing to see a little predator begin to sharpen his attack skills. It warms my heart to imagine the perpetuation of this sport into the homes of my unsuspecting Daughters-in-law.

Though it may be cliché, all I can say is. That’s my boys.