I have a horrible admission to make. I never wanted to have a boy. I always felt sorry for people with all boys. When I found out I was having a boy, instead of another girl which I had hoped for, my heart sank a little. More than once during that pregnancy I thought, “Maybe I can try to get pregnant again. Go through all the nerve-wracking early months, scared to death I’ll miscarry, once more. Maybe our family isn’t complete at two children.”
Then he was born. I was besotted. He was the most perfect child ever. Every inch of him was perfect. I could not have loved him more if he had been a girl. And I have loved having a boy.
I loved how very different they were. Rock Star loved music and would stop whatever she was doing to dance. She loved all her musical toys. As she got older she loved to sing. Picasso, on the other hand, had no interest in music. No desire to dance. No desire to sing. He was around 3 when he finally decided to sing along to some songs they sang in pre-school. I owe a great debt of gratitude to Alice the Camel and her many humps.
He loved balls, though. Any kind of ball. Later would come guns and Legos and super heroes and video games, none of which I would have experienced with Rock Star because she had little interest in any of that.
I remember one summer when money was tight. We ended up going to the rollerskating rink a lot because I could buy a summer pass for a ridiculously small amount of money. Picasso must have earned tickets playing games because he got himself a rubber nose that had slime in it. When you squeezed the nose the slime squirted out like snot. I laughed and laughed at that.
Now as he’s growing up it’s harder and harder to find things for the two of us to do together. He doesn’t really care to go shopping for clothes, even when he needs them. He prefers to have me send pictures, although he can be a dapper little dresser. He’s always loved to dress up. I still remember him seeing a sports jacket and remarking, “I’d look good in that!” He once wanted a suit covered in shamrocks for St. Patrick’s Day. I declined to buy it because it was $40. I’m sure he would have worn it though.
Unlike his sister he has little interest in getting his nails done or getting a pedicure.
Conversely, I am not into video games or Dungeons and Dragons. I was hoping that maybe we could do Pokemon Go together but he likes the actual Nintendo or Switch Pokemon games and doesn’t like the mobile game.
We do share similar tastes in music. He likes classical music and stuff from the 80s. I can’t swear to it but I think he also likes country music.
He wanted Dead Pool to be “our thing” but it’s a little too violent for me. I did take him to see the first one, though. I’ve also taken him to see the final Avengers movie and all of the How To Train Your Dragon movies. So I suppose you could say movies are our thing, although there’s no big production.
I don’t remember how old he was when he first came across Jeff Dunham. I know we were living in Utah and he was there from age 4 until age 12. I would like to say he was probably 8 or 9. He loved the puppets and laughed hysterically at his show. He got a t-shirt with Ahmed the Dead Terrorist and his signature phrase, “Silence! I keel you!” one Christmas. Later on I would buy him the DVD so he could watch it whenever he wanted.
As luck would have it I discovered he was coming to our town. I wrote the date the tickets would be going on sale on my calendar and that day, promptly at 10 a.m. I got online and bought tickets for me and my boy to go see him. I was going to surprise him but #1, I’m terrible at keeping secrets, and #2, it’s been a while since he’s seen Jeff Dunham or mentioned him. I figured maybe I should suss him out and see if he was even still interested. My hopes were high. He had enjoyed Paula Poundstone after all.
He was definitely interested and he was excited to go. So, the other night I picked him up from school, took him to an all you can eat sushi restaurant in town, and then headed downtown to go see the legend himself.
We had a great time and the show itself was terrific. Picasso was laughing so hard at times I thought I was going to have to pat him on the back to make sure he was still breathing. We got matching t-shirts. He also shared that he really likes spending time in the downtown area; he says it feels familiar and comfortable. Finally, after the concert I took him out for a milkshake.
We had some fantastic mother-son bonding time. Maybe seeing comedians in concert can be our thing…