Baby Boys Never Grow Up
For those of you who’ve had the pleasure of a new born baby boy in your arms, you know the excitement of the fun anticipated in days to come. And, I’m not saying that the greatest of pleasures will not be arrived either through the birth of a new baby girl. But, as a father, there is something akin to reliving your own little boy childhood that beats stronger. There is expected excitement at the first baseball that is caught by that baby boy, the first train set that is set up on the living room floor or those first pair of “bobby” skates that allow you to take that first skate on a frozen pond, or a backyard rink so proudly made.
As the years pass, you spend more and more time observing your little boy grow to those teenage years when you become secondary to boy hood friends, and events that call you drive but not to stay. Your little baby boy has become a young adult before your eyes where you often wonder how time has passed so fast.
There are times, though, that your teenage boy seems to revert to that little baby boy with antics that annoy but make you laugh when recalled. Like the day I was working at home unbeknownst to my teenage son. I heard him and a friend enter the house, rummage in the basement, head for the garage, and then onto the street beside our house.
Returning to my work thinking that they were probably out playing road hockey, I was interrupted by the hiss of air, and then a loud bang. Thinking that they had been struck by a car, I ran to my office window that overlooked the street to see them both kneeling beside my stationary air pump. They bent intently over a large plastic pop bottle, filled it with water from the garden hose, then inserted what used to be the end of the hose that attaches to your tire valve into the neck of the bottle, and started to pump air into it.
In only a matter of a few minutes, there was a hiss of air, and the bottle rocketed into the air with a bang. How inventive, I thought. No harm done, and their just out having fun as young boys should. I stood watching for another ten minutes as bottle after bottle rocketed outward to land in a bang some fifteen to twenty feet away. Then, suddenly, they seemed to be finished and appeared to scurry back to the garage. Oh well; time to get back to work.
Later that evening during our supper, I asked my son what they had been doing. His reply was that they had been utilizing some sort of instructions from one of their teachers about some obscure law of physics. It sounded good. After supper, I wanted to go for a bike ride so I went out to the garage to get my bike. Unfortunately, the front tire was down in pressure, so I got my air pump down from the shelf. I attached it to my tire and started to pump but all I heard was a hiss of air. I reattached it to my tire valve and tried again, and all I got was a hiss of air. Guess what? The air pump hose had been shredded right in the middle of the line. Now I know why the boys had quit.
Baby boys never grow up!
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