Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Get that boy a gun!

I get ridiculed a lot by my husband, for being a socialist, liberal, gun regulating, beer taxing, universal health care loving Canadian, and that is fine because as an American, he is unfortunalely incapable of understanding that I am right. So when he tells the kids to "eat like an American!" I shudder, but smile and exercise my Canadian understanding of his vulgar American ways. He just wants the kids to eat their sandwiches without dismembering them first. I get it. Of course, now the kids think that all Canadians dissect their sandwiches, They also might think we drive funny, change our clothes too many times before we leave the house, weep at music, and are so politically correct that we are incapable of lauging at any joke that involves poking fun at any ethnicity, culture or special need. Not like there are vulgar jokes being told in front of the kids-yet.
Next week I am taking the kids  for their yearly visit to Canada, where they will play with their 5 (almost 6!) Canadian cousins. I am excited to see my family. I don't get to see them often and I miss them a lot. But as I watch my children play, I wonder...Do they play like Americans?

Case in point: weapons.
Last christmas the kids got nerf swords, shields and  battle axe. I should say, Daddy got nerf swords, shields and battle axe under the ruse of it being for the kids. "I don't like it!" I complained. "I don't want them playing fight games and whacking each other with swords! Oh the violence! Oh the war mimicry! Oh the glorification of abuse!"
I could go on, but basically the conversation ended up like this:  Don't be such a Canadian! I did all that stuff and look at me! (Indeed) And: They are already doing it anyway, and nerfs are softer than sticks. And: This is human nature. Who are you to impose gentility upon beasts.  Don't be such a Canadian.
They got them.
I set up rules:
-you must ask, both must agree.
-you BOTH get weapons
-You bow to each other
-hit ONLY the weapons, not the person
-Bow at the end
Pathetic, I know, but I am a Canadian. I need regulations.
But I set my foot down at guns.
NO guns.

Last weekend we had a family get together at Auntie Hi-Yi's.  We get there and Emma and Zac dissapear with their cousin Isaiah, who is a good five or so years older. They emerge with an arsenal. Pop guns, guns that shoot suction cups, cap guns, guns guns guns. I must have blanched because my husband started laughing.
Anyway Zac concentrated very hard and figured out how to work the suction cup gun. His great Uncle John patiently helped.  Then he spent a long time standing very still shooting suction cups at the window in the door. Sure he had to be told not to shoot anyone in the face, but he listened and HE STOOD STILL. FOR A LONG TIME. He collected the suction cups and went right back to his spot. He must have put a hundred suction cup on that door. He loved it. He stood so still, firing off his rounds.
Eventually he ran off and I sidled up to the gun and gave it a try. It was actually really fun. I made the best of it though and soapboxed about gun violence and age appropriate toys and glorifying it and how messed up that is.
Zac reappeared just then with a sword. He let out a blood curling scream and leapt on to the deck and with a cry of  "Ninja! Ninja! Ninja!"  he whipped the sword around his head and HIYA! CHA! chopped the air all around him. scattering elderly relatives left and right. Drinks fall over. People cower.
"Get that boy a gun!" cried auntie Hi-Yi.

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