One of the worst things we inadvertently taught our boys was the “loving headbutt.” You know how when you’re loving up on someone, and you lean your head forward or to the side to gently touch theirs? Our Calfgrits learned this little gesture too well.

I’ve seen them do it properly: hug and gently touch heads. But much too often I’ve seen them do it with a little passive-aggressive intention to strike each other without looking like they’re hitting.

If Calfgrit8 gets frustrated with his little brother, he’ll hug him a little tighter than necessary, and then give a headbutt as punctuation on the thought, You make me mad!

If Calfgrit5 doesn’t get his way with his big brother, he’ll lean forward and headbutt him just enough to pass loving and score as a hit, but not so far as to actually hurt him and draw a reprimand.

It never crossed our minds how they might take and use our little loving gesture. We had no idea it would turn into a way to cover an attack. It’s especially frustrating to us when the first headbutt draws a fist hit or foot kick in retaliation. It’s hard to scold both when one says, “I was just hugging him!”

Like true, close brothers, they’ve managed to turn a kind, gentle, and open-hearted embrace into a concealable weapon.

Bullgrit

When we were in Disney World last month, we had several meals in restaurants where the various Disney characters walked around and greeted the kids, signed autographs, and posed for pictures. It was all great, and the kids loved it almost as much as Cowgrit and our moms.

I even posed for a photo with Tigger: my one and only favorite of the characters. After the pose, with my arm around Tigger and his arm around me, Tigger held out his fist to me. I didn’t notice what he was doing at first, but when he pointed with his other hand, I realized his intention: a fist bump.

Caught up in the swirl of commotion that surrounds a Disney character in a crowded restaurant, I gave him the fist bump. But immediately afterward, I thought, Oh come on. A fist bump with Tigger?

That was my first and only fist bump, ever. I’ve never had anyone else throw up their fist for a bump, and I’ve never instigated the action. It has been so over hyped as a gesture that I even find it distasteful. Even stupid.

I had heard and seen reference to it through general cultural osmosis but it’s silly, and since I’m well beyond college age, I never expected to encounter it in person. Especially from Tigger. The silly and lovable critter with a head made of rubber and a tail made out of springs has become like a idiotic frat boy.

Bullgrit

We were all in the den – Calfgrit5 and I were lying on the floor playing Lego Star Wars, Calfgrit8 was on his mother’s computer, and Cowgrit was lying on the sofa reading a book. I asked Cowgrit a question (I forget what I asked). She lowered her book and answered me with a rather annoyed look.

A couple of minutes later, I asked her another question. Cowgrit lowered her book and answered me with a more annoyed look.

I pointed out that she was trying to read a book in the busy family room. “You could be reading in any room in the house, but you choose the one room where the boys are playing?”

“Well,” she said, “the boys aren’t bothering me.”

Oh, yeah. Oops. As an apology, I held up my hand to make the “I love you” sign (a common salute in our family). But when I lifted my hand, my fingers didn’t form the correct sign. I caught my mistake just before the unintended sign fully formed, and I corrected myself. We both knew what I had almost (unintentionally, honestly) done, and we chuckled.

“I was just thinking ‘You’re number one with me,’” I explained.

Cowgrit used her book to conceal her return salute from the boys, “You’re number one with me, too.”

We both laughed and looked around nervously to see if either of the boys had noticed our gestures. They hadn’t, so our mutual first ranking with each other is our little secret.

Bullgrit