You know, I've told my boy a few times to man up and deal with something. I'm not sure what I mean by manning up, in the larger sense. In the short term, it probably means something like, "Hold still and let me take that sliver out of your foot," or "I pretty well understood you're thirsty because it's all you've said for the last 10 minutes. Quit crying and sitting in the sidewalk so we can get home and have some water already."
But when cultures collide, manning up means something else entirely.
Needless to say, I had nothing to do with this particular purchase. Naturally, the boy loves it because he wants to be a jandarma fireman when he grows up, thus elegantly combining everything his testosterone apparently mandates: police, soldier, and fireman. Plus, think of the vehicles! He actually believes police help people and only shoot bad guys. Whenever I try to explain the moral relativity of what "bad guy" means in real life, he just interrupts me to tell me his butt itches or whatever.
At least he told his babaanne he has it on good authority (mine) that sweating doesn't make you sick.
Still, I regret not buying him that sparkly tutu he wanted. I was afraid they would make fun of him. As soon as his big toenails grow back (an unfortunate accident with a dropped toy box), he's getting another coat of the pink nail polish he made me buy.
On the other hand, here's a bit of manning up I can deal with. This is the kind of manning up that makes the other kind seem okay.
Squish.
But when cultures collide, manning up means something else entirely.
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| I'm not cool with this. |
Needless to say, I had nothing to do with this particular purchase. Naturally, the boy loves it because he wants to be a jandarma fireman when he grows up, thus elegantly combining everything his testosterone apparently mandates: police, soldier, and fireman. Plus, think of the vehicles! He actually believes police help people and only shoot bad guys. Whenever I try to explain the moral relativity of what "bad guy" means in real life, he just interrupts me to tell me his butt itches or whatever.
At least he told his babaanne he has it on good authority (mine) that sweating doesn't make you sick.
Still, I regret not buying him that sparkly tutu he wanted. I was afraid they would make fun of him. As soon as his big toenails grow back (an unfortunate accident with a dropped toy box), he's getting another coat of the pink nail polish he made me buy.
On the other hand, here's a bit of manning up I can deal with. This is the kind of manning up that makes the other kind seem okay.
Squish.
4 comments:
Firemen in pink nail varnish and a tutu? What;s the world coming to? Call social services immediately!
Or emergency services! I'll buy the beer.
I love the little video!! Also the confirmation that sweating won't give you pneumonia!! How about not wearing slippers in the house??
He's okay with bare feet, but he thinks eating too much sugar makes you itchy, and that eating or drinking cold things too fast makes you puke.
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