On the Care and Feeding of Boys

This has nothing to do with anything, except that I felt like writing it. Do not make the mistake, however, of thinking that the care and feeding of boys is an unimportant subject. On the contrary!--it is a matter of great significance, one which has formed the central hobby of women for centuries.

Before submitting to you my comments, allow me to offer credentials. By the last count, I am the fond sister of eight brothers. I have two older brothers by blood and one by adoption. The rest are younger brothers, one by blood and four by adoption. I have lived twenty-one years with three of these lads in semi-peace and quasi-harmony, though both peace and harmony have been on the rise significantly for the last six years or so, and are now at such levels as to render all content.

A word ought to be inserted here, by way of further preliminary, about my attitude towards boys. I like them very much, especially when they are well-behaved or--which is not at all the same thing as being well-behaved--when they are in the act of pulling a clever prank. I like boys of all shapes, ages, and varieties, though I prefer them to look like people and not movie stars. I will wait for another post, however, to give my views on that subject.

With these having been considered, I begin. This post will meander a good deal, following no particular outline. Bear with me; perhaps a useful point will materialize... or perhaps not. At any rate, I am not trying to be profound just now. I have one of my brothers with me, and what follows will take the form of an interview.

"So, Sean, how do you like to be cared for and fed?"

"Being cared for and being fed are the same thing."

"I see. So food is good?"

"Yes. Notice how 'food' and 'good' are spelled almost the same?"

"Uh-huh. Do boys liked to be tucked in and have bedtime stories read to them?"

"Yes... but bedtime snacks are better."

::Laughter all round::

"What, besides food, is the nicest thing about having girls to look after you?"

::Long pause::

"How serious is this?"

"Um, pretty serious. Why? Isn't there something nice about girls besides the food that they make?"

"Of course! Just... um, wondering."

"So....?"

"Girls buy us clothes if we give them money, and tell us what looks bad or good. And...um... they're always right!"

"Do you trust them to do that?"

"Yes, of course."

"What if they tell you to buy a pink shirt?"

"That depends on the girl."

"What do you mean, 'it depends on the girl'?"

"Well, if Christy asked me to buy a pink shirt, then I would of course buy a pink shirt. I'd buy two, in case one gets dirty!"

"Stop buttering me up. You know that I don't think guys should wear pink shirts."

"Fine then. If Christy asked me to buy a pink shirt, I'd say 'no, forget it. Go away.' ....In a nice, godly way..."

"Let's move on. What do your sisters (big or little, adopted or blood) do sometimes that drives you crazy? Maybe we can get some 'what not to do' stuff out of this."

"Um, giggling. And the 'oh, I'm fine' response to everything. The one where you can't carry things for them, or do things for them. What we're thinking is, 'well of course you can do it. We know that. But we want to carry it for you, and you just won't let us!'"

"That seems like a good transition into the other side of this whole issue. What do you think guys should do for the care and feeding of their sisters?"

"Well, encourage them, in writing... and do it to a large group of girls all at once, to avoid being conspicuous."

::Much laughter::

"Okay.... what else?"

"Planning is big. Planning events or things. They can go horribly wrong, but if we tried to plan it really well, or thought ahead, then they appreciate it. You know... something non-spontaneous to bless them. I'm speaking on behalf of all poor penniless college boys who can't buy pretty things."

::Interview tabled because two of my other brothers just appeared in the doorway, heavily armed with a marshmellow gun and a dart gun respectively::

"Well, I guess we'll have to wrap this up. Um... hi guys."

"We've come to take Sean away."

There you have it, folks: words of wisdom from one of my brothers. I will leave you to guess whether he is a big or little brother, and whether a blood relative or an adoptee. He's one of my sweetest boys (not at all movie-star, bless his fuzzy head), and as far as I'm concerned, he can stay another week.

And yes, I already fed him.