Monday, December 3, 2007
The sound is a benign scraping. There is a vague hint of metal on metal. A rumbly motor noise emerges from a young boys drooly mouth. The rumbly noise quickly turns into a high pitched shreak. " Your'e too fast, wait for me....heeeeeelp meeeee."My two young boys are on their knees on the linoleum floor playing with matchbox cars. It could last minutes or hours, probably the latter. As a young woman who used to love dolls, loves to wear skirts, loves Jane Austen, chocolate, Miss Marple and knitting and sewing, the Andrews sisters, Masterpiece theater and fragrant lotions, this unabashed fascination with motors, speed and violence is, well, strange. And yet, I must say I love tractors now and gears are beautiful to me. I pride myself on knowing the difference between a skid steer and a caterpiller. Ha Ha tricked you, they are the same thing. Having two boys has changed me for the better. And while my two boys are so very boyish, my older son shares a bit of my fascination with fabrics and craft and he does love a good fragrance. We'll have to see if my younger one show the similar developments in a few years.