B is for Bombs and Butts (and Boys)

Tonight as I was putting the kids to bed Vaughn looked sweetly into my eyes and said "Mom, B is for bombs and butts."  I gave him a kiss on his forehead, told him he was right, and tried not to laugh too hard at his cute and very boyish observation.

I've been thinking about how funny it is to raise boys.  A few days ago I pulled out an old book that I got from the library that teaches you how to make balloon animals.  I thought it might be fun to make the boys a few animals to play with, and practice making something new for me.

The first thing I made was an alligator.  The boys watched over what I was doing, and asked me about my alligator.  They seemed pretty excited, and liked watching and helping me twist our balloon into shape.  The alligator looked just like this when we were done (though this is not my picture):
Alligator or crocodile

I was pretty proud of myself, since it was my first ever balloon animal, and handed it over to the boys to play with.  Within about two seconds Vaughn lifted it high up into the air, and said "It's a sword!"  and he and Mason began playing swords with my poor little alligator.

Humph, I thought, I'll show them.  I searched through my book looking for an animal that they wouldn't be able to turn into a sword and got busy making a cute little hummingbird that looked just like this (though again, not my picture):

This time I told them it was a hummingbird, and showed them how it can fly, and talked about what hummingbirds eat and how fast their wings move.  I handed my cute little bird over, and felt confident that it wouldn't be turned into a sword.

I was right.  They didn't turn it into a sword.  This time Vaughn looked at it for about three seconds, stuck his hands into the wing loops and said "Look Mom they're handcuffs!" and then tromped around the living room with his little brothers playing with their new sword and handcuffs.

And I sighed, put my balloon animal book away, and played with my crazy boys.