Well, it’s happened. My little Eden Mae is officially a girl. To be clear, she has always been a girl as far as her anatomy and such, but now she’s a girrrrl. (There’s also a very real chance that some of her girrrrliness is rubbing off on me, but I don’t want to talk about that right now.)
She and her friends now squeal uncontrollably and scream that ‘only-dogs-can-hear-this’ scream when they are around the boys in their class. I found out the hard way at Eden's 6th birthday party that this phenomenon was now a part of our lives.
To illustrate, from what I gather from her after-school reports, they are all playing a game called ‘Capture’ at recess. In addition to being mind-blowingly creative in the naming department, this game is—that’s right—boys against girls.
The fundamental problem with ‘Capture’ that the boys probably didn’t bank on is this: girls always want to be caught. From first grade playground games to college parties, the girl is always looking for the boy to catch her and take her back to meet the family home base.
So these poor six- and seven-year-old boys are chasing girls that are screaming and pretending to run away. And these poor girls think that the boys that catch them were chasing them because they like them/think they’re pretty/are their best friend. News flash kiddos: boys want to win. Period. Sometimes they chase the girls that they like but mostly they just want to win.
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Further illustration of the basic differences between what girls see and what boys see :) |
To all you poor young girls out there, let me enlighten you further. This doesn’t stop when they get older. When you’re in high school and all the guys decide to have a ‘guys night’ where they play video games or go pumpkin bowling, you will not be invited and you will not be missed. {Sorry!} While they’re out being stupid and/or gross, your ‘girls night’ will consist of watching romantic comedies that paint a very unrealistic picture of love and talking about the boys.
It feels unfair, huh? But the truth that I would like to impart to my girls is this: the male species (mystery though it is) is fairly simple. They don’t have millions of thoughts in their heads all the time like we do. They don’t read into little things like we do, and they are perfectly happy staring blankly at a television for hours without saying a word. I don’t get it either. They’re weird. You learn to live with them. Girrrl it up, gals!