Today I noticed something about the boy that I really hadn't caught on to before.
He likes to be out in front, leading the way...I am not sure how I feel about that.
You see, since today was a crackin' nice day, Pizzly and I decided that we would go for a short little hike. It started out like usual. You know...Pizzly would point to different trees and I would tell him what they were and we'd have to stop and look at anything that was remotely interesting or different.
For instance, we had to stop and look at the one leaf that refused to fall from a maple tree for five minutes. But, this is totally cool with me because I really really enjoy being outside and in the woods and I really really want my kids to feel the same way.
Anyway, before long the little Pizzmeister would start to fall behind and get side tracked, so I would slow down for him. He'd catch up. Then he'd yell at me, and run out ahead.
No big deal. He's two. He's always like that, but it was a little different today. I wasn't allowed to walk next to him or get in front of him at all. I'd get up beside him only to have him toss an arm out in front of me so he could push his way ahead.
I told him that it wasn't very nice to shove people, but all that did was encourage him to run further ahead to make sure he still lead our little excursion.
So...I let him lead, and pretty soon we were 2 miles deep into the woods, I know this because I have a handheld gps, which is the shiznit.
Well, this is where we came to a problem.
Pizzly is only two. Two miles is a hell of a distance for him to walk, so guess what. He insisted on riding the two miles back to the truckster on me, his trusty pack mule!
Luckily, he is a light weight otherwise we'd still be out there. As it is we are lucky to be back by now because every time the boy saw a mud puddle he insisted that I put him down so he could go run and jump in it.
What a loon!
And, he must have some wicked eye sight because he was spotting these puddles like crazy! There could be one drop of water on a single blade of grass, and he'd see it and want to jump on it!
He definitely takes after his mama!
Well, eventually we made it back to the truckster where we met an elderly lady and promptly got into an argument with her about the stupidest thing.
This is what started it:
Old crotchety lady: "Oh it is so nice to see a father taking his little girl out into the woods and not dressing her like a little princess! I just love to see little girls wearing sensible clothes!"
Me (giggling): "Yeah, I like to see little girls wearing sensible clothes too, but this is my SON. His name is ...(Pizzly.)
Old crothety lady: "No it's not! That's clearly your little girl!"
At this point I didn't know what to say. I mean who the hell does she think she is?
Yeah, I have had people argue with me about whether Pizzly is a little boy or not, but not like this, not for real. This lady honest to god meant it!
Then I said the only thing that came to my mind.
Me: "Well, the last time I checked, which was about an hour ago when I changed his diaper in the lean-to up the trail there, he had a penis. Now, unless it somehow fell off, he still has it and is therefore a boy."
Her reply was an emphatic, "Well, he'd make a better girl!" Then she disappeared into the woods, thankfully.
Now, for the life of me I can't figure out why she would have thought that he was a little girl in the first place. Yes, he has curly red hair, but he was wearing a ratty old carhart jacket, his froggy crap kickers, his faded camo jeans, and a shirt that claimed that he was a hunk. None of this should lead one to believe that the wearer of these articles of clothing wishes to be recognized as a female. And, why would you argue with a parent about their kid's gender anyway?
Jeez old lady! What the hell is wrong with you?!
Just thinking about it gets my dander up!