Sweet Shot Tuesday

Having girls I get to miss out on a lot of little boy stuff. Oh, wait, never mind, I forgot we’re talking about my girls here. The ones who like bugs, worms, dirt, mud & frogs. So maybe I don’t miss out on that much.

There’s just something about little boys though, maybe it’s the way they look at you with that crooked little grin. Or how they are being loud and rambunctious and the minute you ask for a hug, they turn red faced and all the sudden bashful.

Every once in a while a little boy comes along and steals my heart. It’s not for very long though, what is it about little boys that when they turn about 7 all girls, young and old alike have cooties? [except for mom of course] I’ve been doing this for almost 20 years, getting hugs, little love notes, a handful of flowers here and there ……… only for them to “grow up” and kick me to the curb. HA! {maybe its a nephew thing}

This is B.W. and he is a little C-U-T-I-E! He & his sister went along last week when I took pictures of his cousin. At first he did not want to have his picture taken, matter of fact that was the last thing he wanted to do. Smile… please, pretty please….no? Okay. Something was mentioned about a tree, his mom said he could climb it, and that was all it took to get this little fellow to look at the camera.

Below I posted What is a Boy? Several months back I posted the one about little girls and know that many of you have handsome little fellows running around your house and thought maybe you’d enjoy reading.

What is a Boy?
By Alan Beck

Between the innocence of babyhood and the dignity of manhood we find a delightful creature called a boy. Boys come in assorted sizes, weights, and colors, but all boys have the same creed: to enjoy every second of every minute of every hour of every day and to protest with noise (their only weapon) when their last minute is finished and the adult males pack them off to bed at night.

Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around, or jumping to.

Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them, and Heaven protects them.

A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair, and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket. When you are busy, a boy is an inconsiderate, bothersome, intruding jangle of noise. When you want him to make a good impression, his brain turns to jelly or else he becomes a savage, sadistic, jungle creature bent on destroying the world and himself with it.

A boy is a composite—he has the appetite of a horse, the digestion of a sword-swallower, the energy of a pocket-sized atomic bomb, the curiosity of a cat, the lungs of a dictator, the imagination of a Paul Bunyan, the shyness of a violet, the audacity of a steel trap, the enthusiasm of a firecracker, and when he makes something, he has five thumbs on each hand. He likes ice cream, knives, saws, Christmas, comic books, the boy across the street, woods, water (in its natural habitat), large animals, Dad, trains, Saturday mornings, and fire engines.

He is not much for Sunday School, company, schools, books without pictures, music lessons, neckties, barbers, girls, overcoats, adults, or bedtime. Nobody else is so early to rise, or so late to supper. Nobody else gets so much fun out of trees, dogs, and breezes. Nobody else can cram into one pocket a rusty knife, a half-eaten apple, three feet of string, an empty Bull Durham sack, two gum drops, six cents, a slingshot, a chunk of unknown substance, and a genuine supersonic code ring with a secret compartment.

A boy is a magical creature—you can lock him out of your workshop, but you can’t lock him out of your heart. You can get him out of your study, but you can’t get him out of your mind. Might as well give up—he is your captor, your jailer, your boss, and your master—a freckled-faced, pint-sized, cat-chasing, bundle of noise. But when you come home at night with only shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams, he can mend them like new with two magic words, “Hi Dad!”

For more sweet shots be sure to visit Darcy!