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Example number 27

You hear all the time how raising boy is very different from raising girls. In the beginning days of parenthood you think, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” But then, slowly, differences begin to assert themselves.

Perhaps your boy decides he wants to poop in the yard like the dogs.

Maybe he eats all the egg-dying pellets the Easter he’s five and you have to explain to the daycare ladies why he’s Banditpooping rainbows.

Then perhaps you wonder why so much stuff about the boy revolves around pooping.

Whatever it is that gets you there, pretty quickly you realize that boys are DEFINITELY different than girls. Mostly – with The Bandit – this is manifested by his father and I looking at each other with puzzled expressions. I feel like his dad should be able to explain this stuff, after all, he was a boy once too.

Things like this.

Last week I went to wake up the boy for school and this is what I found. He was asleep in his bottom dresser drawer. Said drawer was still connected to the dresser. He’d lined it with pillows and, as you can see, used his Star Wars blanket to make the whole thing cozy.

His father can shed no light on what the hell was going on at 3am when this plan was conceived.

The boy simply could not explain to me why he’d done it. He just kept shrugging. “I don’t know. I just wanted to see what it was like.”

I’ll tell you what it’s like. It’s weird. I honestly feel like at some point in the future, his father and I will be watching him on some stage where he’s being lauded at the next Andy Kaufman and we’re going to be like, “Yeah, we’ve known since the dresser.”

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