When my brother Mike visited in November, we were talking about how my mom is sending his girls all my old dolls1 and I’m getting all his old Legos for my son. We were joking that it was like we were having a second childhood—except this time we were growing up as the opposite sex.
So, since my brother can now name all the Disney Dancing Princesses (and I have no clue who they might be) and has probably seen more episodes of Wizards of Waverly Place than I’ll ever watch, I thought I’d share things I’ve been doing and learning since I’ve been growing up (again) as a boy.
- I know the difference between Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars. The Hot Wheels are more fantasy cars while the Matchbox cars are more realistic cars you see on the road. In my previous “girl” life, I thought they were the same but made by different manufacturers.
- I’ve seen every episode of the Star Wars saga. (There are six in case you didn’t know.) I can toss around names and terms like General Grievous, midichlorians and Gungans and know what I’m talking about. I know I would rather live on Naboo than Mustafar, and that the bad guys usually have red light sabers.
- I spent my morning fighting with light sabers. (For the record, I was saddled with the “crappy” light saber that Santa brought and was defeated by the cooler, longer light-up light saber that we found on our recent vacation.)
- I think it is possible to never have enough Legos. (Although that opinion changes whenever I have to clean them off the floor to vacuum in my alternate identity as “Mommy.”) Seriously, no matter what I am building, I feel like I am always short on the type of brick or color that I need.
- I play games on the PS3. (Although I’ve been told by both my husband and my son that I “suck.”) When I recently played a match in Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 against Mr. Jenners, I was killed 29 times in 10 minutes. Approximately 90% of the time, my guy was looking up in the sky and turning around wildly. I’m actually considering practicing secretly on my own and then casually challenging Mr. Jenners to a match. It would be considered a victory for me if I even killed him one time. And I can’t even tell you how much I love playing the Lego games. It annoys me to no end that my Little One thinks they are for him and he is “in charge” of what level is played and how we spend our studs.
- I know the names of at least 10 monster trucks. Wanna test me? Here are names of 10 Monster Jam monster trucks right off the top of my head: Grave Digger, Wild Hare, El Toro Loco, Blue Thunder, Backdraft, Bounty Hunter, Maximum Destruction, Taz, Monster Mutt, Prowler. I could even pick these guys out of a line-up with their names removed.
- I routinely shoot a gun using my fingers. (Well, it is more of a blaster than a gun.) Although I’ve talked to the Little One about how guns are dangerous and violence is bad, what is a
girlboy to do when being pursued by a dangerous bounty hunter like Jango Fett in the backyard? (By the way, Jango is Boba Fett’s father and provided the original DNA for all the clones in the Clone Wars.)
- I think farts are funny (as well as whoopie cushions and Flarp). You should have heard the one I did a few weeks ago. It was very long, high-pitched, and changed its tone at least 3 times. The Little One and I were laughing until we cried. We still say “Remember that fart I did that was so long and squeaky?” Good times, good times.
1 Although many of my dolls are probably unappealing to them as I played with dolls in a unique way. Stay tuned for a post I’m working on for next week in which I share my unique doll playing style. I’m sure you’ll want to print it out for all the little girls in your life.