Yesterday, October 15, was Calfgrit3’s birthday — he’s now Calfgrit4. It was an exciting day for him, and it turned out to be an exciting day for me, too.

For him, he got lots of attention from us as the birthday boy. He had a cookie-cake party at preschool with all his classmates. Then we had a small “party” for him at home — he chose what to eat, he got a “Happy Birthday” balloon, and we all had some cake.

His big party will be on Saturday, at the bowling alley. Bowling seems to be all – the – rage for kids’ birthday parties nowadays. I’m sure you’re anxious to read how that all goes.

For me, I’ve been offered a new job, and I start this coming Monday. This job seems like it will be pretty darn interesting — it has potential to be the best job I’ve ever had — and I’m excited to start it. So, wow, who could have predicted I’d get a possibly better job just two weeks after getting laid off from the previous “better job”?

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

The boys were in the backyard playing, and I had just gone inside to gather up some snacks. I answered the phone while in the kitchen. It was Cowgrit calling.

I had left the back door open so I could hear the boys, and hear them, and more, I did. There was a big roar outside from an aircraft flying over. We’re not too far from the busy main airport of our state, so hearing a plane fly over is not exceptional. But this one sounded really low, and that’s pretty rare.

The boys outside were yelling, “Dad! Dad! Come here! Look at this!” They also asked “What is this?!”

I walked to the back door with the phone to my ear and looked out at the boys by their play set. “I’m on the phone, boys!” I shouted back. They were looking and pointing up in the sky over the house very excitedly. I could understand that. An unusually low flying plane going over our house is exciting. But they were saying, “Dad, what is that? It’s something strange!”

“It’s not an airplane?” I shouted.

“No,” they answered. “I don’t know what it is,” said Calfgrit7.

“Is it a helicopter?” asked Calfgrit3.

Calfgrit7 said it wasn’t, and it didn’t sound like a helicopter. The sound was fading, having passed directly over our house.

I decided I should run out in the yard and take a look before it got out of sight. All kinds of thoughts ran through my head right then. I started thinking all kinds of fantastic things. Holy crap! I thought, what if it really is something fantastic!?.

I ran outside to the boys by the play set and turned around to look up over the house. I was at once relieved that it wasn’t something really fantastic, but I was excited that it was something very cool. It was a B-2 stealth bomber. I caught sight of it just before it disappeared over the trees — it was very low, less than a thousand feet up.

I’ve seen a B-2 before. Many times on TV and/or movies, and once in person at a military air show. But I can totally understand how a 7 year old and a 3 year old would be bewildered by it. It doesn’t look like any other aircraft they have ever seen, on TV or in person. To them it is something fantastic. Their excitement over the fantastic enhanced my excitement over the coolness, and I jabbered to Cowgrit on the phone about what had just happened (as though she hadn’t heard the whole thing as it happened).

Some things are best experienced in the presence of children. The merely cool can become fantastic.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

I’ve mentioned my Captain America action figure that I keep on my work desk. I bought him two or three years ago while in a toy story with Calfgrit7 (then just 5 years old). At the time, I felt that I had to say I was buying it for the calf, (I don’t remember why I thought this), but I was really buying it for me. I had all intentions of digging it out of his toy box once he forgot it was buried in there.

He had three variations of Spider-Man action figures, so surely he wouldn’t miss this guy he wasn’t all that interested in anyway. Once I had swiped this Captain America from the pile of toys, he forgot all about it.

I took Cap’n A to my work and proudly displayed him on my desk. I even dressed as the Captain for Halloween that year. Since then, he’s been a regular part of my desk. At work. Out of my boy’s sight.

But now that I’m home, and have no away desk to keep him, Captain America is on my home desk. Calfgrit7 immediately saw him and asked for him back. <sigh>

So, I went on ebay to find a replacement. (These figures are out of production, now.) I bid on one figure (new, in box), but lost the auction within the last hour. I bid on another figure (also new, in box), but lost that auction, too, within the last hour. Geez. I found another figure, and thought about bidding on it.

It’s been a while since I did anything on ebay, so I had forgotten about the “Buy Now” options and stores. Fortunately, I remember this before bidding on the third figure. I checked out the buy now listings and to my happy surprise, I found a figure (still new, in box) selling for even cheaper than I had bid on the others. I clicked to buy that thing faster than Cap’n A can take down a squad of Nazis.

So Calfgrit7 gets his action figure back, and I get a brand new one all for myself. It’s like a half-hour sitcom resolution. But without any funny.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

As you know, I have two boys: ages 3 (4 in two weeks) and 7 years. They both have boy friends they’ve made at school (or preschool), but they’re otherwise completely surrounded by girls.

Next door neighbor: two girls, 2 and 4 years old.

Across the street: two girls, 3 and 6 years old.

Cowgrit’s best friend: two girls, 7 and 8 years old.

Cousins (close enough in age and geography to count): two girls, 7 and 9 years old.

We have the Calfgrits’ boy friends come over to our house to play occasionally, and they sometimes go to the friends’ homes, so both calves get boy play. But they play a lot with girls, too. Interestingly, none of the children seem to care about the others’ gender. When the genders are mixed, the play tends to be “neutral.” I think this is good. Maybe neither of my boys will grow up shy around girls.

But there is definitely a distinct difference between boy-boy play and boy-girl play. Last night while getting the boys out of the bath tub, Calfgrit3 showed us how he had assembled a “gun” out of the foam letters and numbers bath toys.

“This is what I use to shoot them,” he proudly proclaimed.

“Who is ‘them’?” asked Cowgrit.

“The bad guys and robots,” CG3 explained.

We chuckled, and I said to Cowgrit, “I bet [neighbor] has never heard this kind of conversation.”

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com