What
is a Little Boy?
Alan
Beck
Between
the innocence of babyhood and the dignity
of manhood we find a delightful creature called
a boy. Boys come in assorted sizes, weights and
colors, but all boys are the same. Boys are found
everywhere -- on top of, underneath, inside of,
climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping
to.
Mothers
love them, little girls hate them, older
brothers and sisters tolerate them, adults ignore
them and Heaven protects them. A boy
is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a
cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its
hair and the hope of the future with a frog in its pocket. When
you want him to make a good impression,
his brain turns to jelly, or else he becomes
a savage, sadistic jungle creature bent on destroying
the world.
A boy
is a composite -- he has the appetite of a
horse, the digestion of a sword swallower, the energy
of an atom bomb, the curiosity of a cat, the lungs
of a dictator, the shyness of a violet and when he
makes something, he has five thumbs on each hand.
A boy
is a magical creature -- you can lock him out
of your workshop, but you can't lock him out of
your heart. Might as well give up -- he is your
captor, your jailer, your boss and your master -- a
freckled face, pint size, cat chasing bundle of noise.
But
when you come home at night with only the
shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams, he can
mend them like new with the two magic words, "HI,
DAD!"