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The Mystery of Male Armies, Redux
A young friend came to visit. He is seven years old and, of course, his mother does not permit him to have toy guns. This is what he made, without assistance, using rubber bands and twigs from the yard. Note the magazines (yup, there’s one on the other side) and the sights on the barrel.
As @franksoto put it, in the title to a recent post, “bask in the crazy” indeed.
Published in Guns
Insert it again, through the Add Media button, and in that dialog off to the side will be a “Size” drop-down box. Try it full size instead of thumbnail.
Hit edit in the bottom of your comment. Right click on the picture. Hit “edit” (the pencil icon.) In the display settings you’ll find a drop down to choose a size.
Edit your comment. Right click on the picture. Click the edit button (looks like a pencil). Select the full size option for size.
Prude. It was praise, of sorts.
I would be flattered if any women thought I was good looking, and expressed it. Luckily for all, only Mrs. iWe ever does.
Sissy bars are important.
My kids are allowed ALL toy guns – except for those that actually look like real guns. Too many accidental shootings of kids with something that looked real in the dark/shadow/etc.
Any kids points any toy gun of any kind at me, and I summarily grab it, break it, and dispose it. Haven’t had a boy try in years – and I have a 5 and 7 year old.
GF: How would you like being treated like a piece of meat?
Me: My place or yours?
Prude? Really? I’m a prude? Overly proper and concerned with sexual impropriety because I think some strange man whistling and shouting at my ass is a loser?
You probably think that when I reported to the police the man who accosted me on my road nearly ten years ago when I was pregnant and waddling down the road one morning and asked me if I’d like to hop in his truck and get it on with him, that showed even more what a prunish prude I am.
That man thought that my red-hot anger was a little upsetting. He sure drove away in quite a hurry. He probably thought I was a prude too.
If you read my comment, you know that I recognize that men and women might view it differently. I didn’t overly censure the whistler yesterday, and I don’t really appreciate you calling me names.
I’d appreciate it if you apologize @iwe, because your “prude” comment really bothers me.
Feel free to think privately that I am even more of a prude for wanting an apology, but I don’t see why I had to be insulted here. Again.
You’re definitely not a prude, Mama Toad.
Yelling personal remarks at someone is intrusive and boorish—-it’s definitely not a compliment. The people who do it aren’t trying to make the object of their attention feel good and happy. Quite the opposite.
Oh, Mama Toad! I was not trying to insult you!!! I was poking fun, and did not mean the remark as genuine criticism at all!
In my ultra-orthodox world, men and women often avoid direct eye contact, we don’t touch unrelated members of the opposite sex, and, depending on the situation, it is inappropriate to even greet a woman or man whom you do not know. And I wholeheartedly agree with these strictures, in their proper place. I know from real prudence. To top it off, I lived in the UK for ten years, where Jewish prudishness takes an even more rarified form (having absorbed much of the English attitude of repression toward sex in general)
So, no: I do not consider you to be a prude. I was just amused, is all.
Please accept my apology, because I meant no offense whatsoever, and am disappointed in myself that I failed to properly communicate my tone in the email.
Thank you. Sorry.
I may not be a prude, but sometimes I misread people.
Cheers!
Edit the comment, click on the photo, click on the pencil icon, then select “large” from the available settings. Possible also change the “Link to” to Image URL. That lets us click on the picture to see the original hi-res version.
I made it bigger in the original post—-does that help? (And…aren’t they adorable?)
Huh. I don’t get that reference.
I just grew up with three brothers and three sisters. Each others’ toys were often repurposed. (-:
Well that’s not just illegal, it’s also unlucky. How’s that old nursery rhyme go again?
The twelve-loop’d noose tis the hangman’s sure friend.
Employ the thirteenth and you will surely meet the same end.
I too assumed that he was joking. I assume that most people are. It helps keep me sane.
Saner.
You and I, we went to different nurseries.
You probably never heard
Tattle-tale-tit, your tongue should be slit
either.
And here, I was imagining that you would grab onto it and change your pen-name to “Mama Prude” for a week.
And the funny thing is that I practically accused him of having no sense of humor in his thread… Sorry again…
In my excuse, I had just been stung by an ornery yellow jacket and my arm was throbbing and sore when I got all annoyed…
Ow! Sounds like you need to send a child to Georgia Tech, so you’ll be family. (-:
Does the kid get enough food? Hopefully, the mom isn’t trying to stunt his growth by making him a vegan.
When our son turned five his baby sitter gave him a croquet set for his birthday. He promptly unscrewed all of the mallet heads to create a collection of swords. He then employed his newfound sword collection to “behead” all of the tulips in his mother’s flowerbed. We only witnessed the sad demise of the final tulip so I cannot say whether each beheading was accompanied by a “touche'” or an “hah.” He turned out all right. He sends his mother tulips every year for Mothers’ Day.
If a boy doesn’t turn sticks and stones into swords and guns, you really have something to worry about.
I had a feeling this might be the case, knowing iWe! It can be difficult to “read” what would be obvious if tone of voice and expression were part of the equation!
Kid needed exposure to the glories of maces and war hammers.
Careful there; it’s easier to break a mallet with the head still attached.
One year when my boys were young I asked them to help me decorate the Christmas tree. They were happy to hang a few ornaments, but then they went and got their GI Joes and set them up in the branches in sniper positions. So we made that a yearly tradition for a while. They were set deep in the branches, so most people didn’t see them. It was fun to see people’s reactions when they did see them.
FIFY
When I was about 14 and my brother was about 12, I gave him a serious whack on the head with a croquet mallet head – it really was by accident. We thought croquet would be far more interesting if we gave the mallet a good swing, rather than just the wimpy little tap we’d get by keeping the mallet head no more than 6 inches above the grass (the instructions we were given). My brother lived and recovered quickly, but no more croquet for us for quite a while.
Well, my niece is in her second year of engineering there…