cousin camper: buddy
“I poop on your head.”
This statement, followed by eruptions of unmanly giggles, issues forth from a boy’s mouth. We call the boy Buddy, because, well, he is. He’s the teddy bear of a boy whose stocky three-years-going-on-five frame lumbers along at a lope beside the mincing girls’ footsteps.
He’s the Buddy you want to cuddle up with at night.
He’s the Buddy you want to kiss your boo-boo when you fall down.
He’s the Buddy whose grin wipes away clouds.
And from time to time, he may offer to defecate on your head. You know. Just for fun. Cause that’s what boys do.
As much as he’s surrounded by girls, what with his sister, mom, aunt, and cousin all belonging to the feminine race, Buddy manages to keep gender distinctions clear. No grilled cheese sandwiches for this manly boy-man. “No Girl Cheese Sandwich. Need Boy Cheese sandwich.” So he gets his Boy Cheese Sandwich. It looks and tastes just like the Girl Cheese Sandwiches plopped down on his sister and cousin’s plates. But to him, there’s a world of difference.
My nephew has taught me a thing or two about boys. First, boys are proud, ever so proud, to pee in the woods. Second, boys are proud, ever so proud, to protect their women folk. From bears. Or bugs. Or poop.
And finally, boys cry too. For all the sunny grins, poopy talk, and semi-girly giggles, this Buddy boy still knows how to say ouch when it hurts. And for that (and all his teddy bear cuddles), I love him.
Plus, he can pee in the woods. And that is just plain super cool.