… Forget the contrived “war on girls”, I’ve been saying there is a war on boys before it was cool. My impending, and always accurate, sense of doom began exactly ten years ago with the birth of my son. From the very first play date where all the moms repeated to their toddler sons, “Don’t hit. We don’t use our hands for hitting”. The “happy hands” philosophy later evolved into restricting their sons from playing with guns and toy weapons.
Here’s the thing… a little boy can turn anything into a weapon. A stick is a sword. Break the stick and it becomes a gun. The same can be said for plain old building blocks. Pretty much anything. If he can hold it, it’s a gun.
I’ve seen my son turn sweet and snugly stuffed animals into grenades and cannonballs of death launched across the living room. The floor is always lava and if you roll out of the hammock you get eaten alive by a swarm of circling sharks. Peril and bloodshed lurk everywhere. That’s just how the mind of a boy works.