We’re borrowing a new toy from a friend of mine. It’s very cool, and Ian seems to love it.
But no matter how many bells and whistles this toy has, Ian loves nothing more than to take the pieces and throw them to the floor. He doesn’t knock them off, or toss them over his shoulder. He carefully grasps them, lifts them into the air, and slams them to the carpet. If I hold them down, he uses two hands and strains to pull them off.
Recently, Kelly asked me why he should prefer this over playing with the toy as intended. In response, I present, “It’s a Boy”:
logic and good sense
dissipate with the marriage
of her X, his Y