A Dragon Of Eden
If anyone in the family, or anyone else for that matter, I suppose, is wondering what to get Scotty for his upcoming first birthday, be advised that he is currently insanely fond of lawnmowers, just really cannot get enough of them. Riding lawnmowers, push lawnmowers–the minute he spies one his attention is fixed. He shouts, bounces up and down, claps his hands, more or less displaying all the behavior of a football fan watching a close home game.
His fascination with them bothers the Sainted Wife, who for the life of her cannot understand his fixation with the machines. Saying “he’s a boy,” by way of explanation doesn’t help much, implying as it does that large parts of the male mind are ineffable, forever beyond the understanding of females.
And this is her son, a being whom she has borne about on her hip for nearly his entire life. If his some of his thought processes are a closed book to her, then what the hell goes on in my mind?
In case you were wondering, “You really don’t want to know,” is just as unsatisfying an explanation as “he’s a boy.”