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My brother came by and brought Tin a Monster Truck that makes Monster noises and after he left, us three women – me, T and M (the nanny) stared at it and thought, hmmm. Only a boy would by a Monster Truck for a boy. I’m half way into the Real Boys book and I’ve been observing men in a very different fashion – imagine the boy growing up who loves his mommy and his daddy and his family and is totally himself at home and then this little boy goes to school and he learns from people outside of the house that there is a boy code and he doesn’t know it – you have to be mean, you have to be stoic, you have to be tough, you have to be indifferent. What a confusing message. I spoke with two men who are close to me this week and both of them are doing what they were told they are supposed to do – earning a living and supporting their family and manning up – only the wear and tear of that shows on their general joie de vivre. Where is there place to say – WAH, I don’t want to do none of this!? Where is their appreciation?

The men who follow the boy code, who go out there every day and slog through work, support their families, and don’t utter a whimper need a pat on the back, but they also need a place to say you know what I’m scared, I’m hurting, I’m vulnerable. How about along with monster trucks comes a lot of hugs and a lot of kisses and welcome man’s lap who is there for him, who says, “You can cry here, son. You can say what hurts.” I guarantee you this boy would not be a wimp.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 6th, 2010 at 9:59 am and is filed under Main. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.