Months ago, when we cleaned out the toy chest, I offered a friend of mine some action figures that weren’t getting enough action.
“Oh no. I don’t let my boys play with anything that encourages violence.”
“Oh. Okay,” I mumbled.
But inside I was really thinking, “Hah! Good luck with THAT!” That’s when my sweet Luke blind sided me with a karate chop and a growl. “I see you like to chew,” he said. “How’d you like to chew…ON MY FIST!” (The line’s from Kung Fu Panda.) Her point was made.
To Luke’s mind, all buildings and structures are made for the sole purpose of being knocked down–hay-ya,!! By him.
Andy’s main question in life is to see just how fast he can rile Luke up. And the answer is, pretty darn fast. All he has to do is take away one of his light sabers and…watch out! And Dean? Well, he mimicks whatever Luke does, so most days he just toddles around the house grunting and growling like a jungle cat ready to strike. He even does the menacing glare under his soft furrowed baby brow. And Kate has, out of necessity, polished her self defense moves down to a science: she kicks her legs around like an egg beater while screaming in an octave only dogs can hear, “MOOOOOMMMM!”
So really, I don’t know why this friend turned down our Kung Fu chopping action figures! It’s nothing but angelic singing around here!
But, of course, Paul loves to see the fire in Luke’s eyes. How did he put it? Oh yes. He has, “the eye of the tiger.” You know, as in Rocky. Fierce. Ferocious. Powerful. Can you hear the theme music? He can. He’s already rubbing his hands together, dreaming of all those high school games he’ll be video taping.
But in the meantime, I’m the one getting kicked in the shins. Do you really think he would be a different child if all I let him watch was The Sound of Music and Dora the Explorer? If all his toys were either musical instruments or cuddly plush puppies? My gut tells me no. He’d still want to crush those Nazis and punish Swiper the Fox. The drum sticks would become swords and the plush puppies would all turn into sniveling, snarly, white hot balls of canine terror in a matter of minutes.
Paul’s right. The eye of the tiger is in him. All I can do is try to tame and train the cat until he cuddles up and purrs in my lap when I call. (This works if I only call when he’s hurt or tired.)
He does give great snuggles. Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr……..