Alex had a play date last night. Which is nice for both of us. He gets to play with his friend, and I get to have a glass of wine with my friend! Play dates are some of the times I am so thankful we turned our front porch into his playroom. All of his toys are out there, so it gives them some time to just be kids and us some time to be normal adults.
Last night, I kinda wished the toys were a little closer so I could have reached my darling child faster when I heard him yelling, "Kill! Kill! Kill!" while aiming his helicopter at his train track. Yeah. That happened. The helicopter is currently residing on a very high shelf in a closet.
The thing I don't understand is where these things come from. We didn't have any shoot-outs in our house, but last year, he all of sudden was running around with his fingers in a gun formation and Pew!Pew!Pew!-ing the dog. And we obviously aren't exposing him to anything that would show helicopters blowing up train tracks and killing people, yet there we were.
Are boys just born with this shit in their brains, set to leak out on a specific time release? Or I am raising a serial killer? Pleasebebornwithit.Pleasebebornwithit.Pleasebebornwithit.
Maybe he's born with it... maybe it's homicide!
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