Stupid boy tricks

I don't understand the male mind.

I have two boys and two girls. My girls I get, I know where they are coming from, we are connected in the sisterhood of femaleness. When Susan wants to be alone, doesn't want me to see what she's writing or wants the kitchen free to make coffee cake without me watching, I get it. When her little sister cuddles her baby doll and stuffed animals, carrying them around the house as their mommy, I understand that too. I see myself in their actions. 

But do I relate to my boys? Not so much.  Boys are a mystery. The thought processes leading them into their crazy tricks- where does it come from?

The following are a sample of their eight and six-year-old antics from the past few months.

 

We have chickens. The boys are to feed and collect the eggs each morning. For several weeks, few eggs made it back to the house. Finally, after asking the right questions, I discovered the chickens were laying fine. The boys had a fun time smashing most of them (the eggs, not the chickens).

Not too long after the Egg Smashing Discovery, we had the Window Smashing Incident. Not our house windows. Old windows my husband was keeping for something (that's entirely another blog post). The boys went out to play and decided to throw rocks at the panes.

Just in case you didn't know: boys like to smash things.

Looking out the windows the other day, I noticed several of the screens had quarter-sized holes. Okay. I went outside and took the sticks away from the boys.

Boys like sticks too. Which they usually turn into swords and spears.

Yet for all the smashing and sticks and general destructiveness, that's nothing compared to what happened not too long ago. Finally we have reached the mother load of Stupid Boy Tricks (hmmm. Letterman?)

A boy peed on our grill.

When I came out the back door to find him in mid-stream, I couldn't believe it. He seemed to be  enjoying himself, like he was painting a canvas or writing his name in the snow. Talk about complete freak out, I think my face turned various shades of red to match my hair. Urine dripped from the metal top and handle. At least the grill wasn't turned on and closed tight. When I finally was able to speak in complete sentences instead of growls and thundering anger, I asked him why he would do such a thing.

“Well, he peed on the side of the house!”  And he pointed at his brother.

The mind of a boy - I don't get it. That's what I thought as I went outside again Saturday. This time I saw my husband, who had been working out in the yard, standing discreetly with his back to me.

What are you doing?!?

He shrugged his shoulders, and grinned, zipping up his fly.

“It's just easier than going into the house.” 

See? The mind of a boy? I just don't get it.

This is an original New Jersey Moms Blog post. Monica Brand writes about home schooling, books and faith at her blog, Paper Bridges.