The Junior World Conquering Society of America

Originally Posted 1/4/08

I used to believe the media hype that playing with toy guns makes little boys more prone to violence. Now that I have 3 boys of my own, I've changed my mind about that. I'm now convinced that they are hard-wired to love weapons.
If you don't buy a boy a toy gun, he will make a gun out of household objects. I promise you, a grilled cheese sandwich makes a fine gun, when eaten in the right way. Sticks, curtain rods and wrapping paper tubes also make great swords for knights in training.
Brandon got a Game Stop gift card for Christmas, so they all went in search of hard-core weaponry. Their favorite place is the used game shelf. They came home with enough games to explode things to their hearts' content.
The next ritual, I admit, is lost on the estrogen-producers of the house. Here's how it works-the men of the house battle each other and take turn battling numerous computer opponents. Smack-talking is apparently an essential part of this ritual. Here is an example:
Samuel-"Dude, I am like, whipping you!"
Gabriel-"Take that! (maniacal laugh)"
This trash-talking often digresses into actual wrestling matches, much to the delight of all involved. Gideon, the junior member of this society, tends to root for whatever brother is winning at the moment. He does pay careful attention to the ritual, so that when he gets a turn, there won't be a breach of male etiquette.
Earlier this evening, Samuel was learning the new war game, and was in the supply truck for another gun. Here's what was said:
Brandon-"Sam, don't shoot in the truck! You'll blow everything up!"
Samuel-"Yay!"
See what I mean? There's no escaping it. And it starts early. Gideon has a new game where I guess what job he wants when he grows up. Usually it's fireman, policeman or doctor. This is how it went yesterday:
Gideon-"Mommy, guess what I want to be when I grow up."
Mom-"A firefighter?"
Gideon-"No! I want to be an army man."
Mom-"Oh really? Why do you want to be a soldier?"
Gideon-"Because that's the only way I can get a machine gun and a Bazooka."
There's no hope for Hannah & I-we are outnumbered. When we can't take anymore of the testosterone fest, we retreat to do our nails and listen to music, and leave them to conquer the world on their own.