Who is in charge here?

 

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Boys. What can be said about boys?  So much, a lot. 

As a teacher I enjoyed teaching boys. Cut it out. I am looking at you. And, classroom life would resume.  But girls? 

A classroom of girls is much like a room full of cats. Things go bad fast when Lisa has a "dispute" with Becky, and then explosions. 

Another time I will highlight the females of the same age.  Should be interesting.

Run, Run Fast, and Runaway

Different music artists in my formative years are plastered in my memory. Some of their recordings make me happy, just humming tunes and recalling some of the lyrics.

Bobby Vee... I always loved Go Away Little Girl.

 Bobby Vee died in 2017 at age 73 years, from Alzheimer's.

Sigh.  Bobby Vee made many teenage girls sigh.  

The Beatles had their own song, Run for Your Life, Little Girl. I never listened to the lyrics until recently.  Creepy.

Run fast, Little Girl.

Del Shannon was famous with My Little Runaway. The organ riff was famous at the time.

Where did this Runaway Girl go?  Why?

So, there you have it.  

Bobby Vee wanted a girl to go away before he begged her to stay. 

Beatles were stalkers, promised to behead the girl if she left. 

Del Shannon wondered why his girl ran away. 

These narcissistic men viewed these girls as objects, didn't they understand that? 

Obviously, all girls need to watch themselves and ask serious questions about any guy who is controlling and possessive. They should consider cross-country training.

Boys Break Things

There is a simple truth in a girl’s life that we all have had to accept occasionally throughout the female life:  Boys break things.

I learned this repeatedly throughout my growing up years, since I had three brothers.  The first time was a minor breakage, but the breaking of my things grew in magnitude as my brothers grew.  I remember Christmas 1959—it was a wonderful Christmas, for Santa had gotten some extra money from the sale of hogs.  Pork prices must have been up for that time period.  When I opened my presents, I had received a bride doll.  She had luxurious black wavy hair like Elizabeth Taylor.  And I was given a two-piece set of pink metal refrigerator and range; the doors opened and closed; and, there were miniature boxes of cake mix, cans of peas, Kellogg’s Corn Flakes.  It was amazing.  My oldest brother Don gave me a brush, comb, mirror, and talcum powder dresser set; I felt so grown up.  My older brother Robert gave me a make-up set for girls about my age (8).  Bill was four years old, and Mary was only 2, so I don’t remember what they gave.

I went back to school after break was over, taking my new doll.  I came home excited, for I was going to play with my new toys.  As I climbed the stairs to my room, I became apprehensive; there were white talc footprints heading down the stairs.  I ran to my room, and beheld the carnage. 

Everything was covered in talc powder.  My comb was broken, the mirror was cracked.  There was lipstick all over the face of my old doll.  The toy food boxes had been smashed, and there was a dent in the sides of the refrigerator and stove.  All my precious new toys had suffered a great assault. 

I ran down the stairs, “Mmmmooooommmmm!” all the way.  She was peeling potatoes for dinner, and didn’t even turn around.  “What’s the matter?” I poured out my heart, with all the frustration and pain an eight-year old girl can feel.  It was Bill mainly, but Mary did the lipstick, I knew this.  Bill broke my gifts.  “Well, go clean it up.”  She continued peeling.  I glanced into the living room, where the two miscreants sat innocently watching cartoons.  I wanted beatings, I wanted revenge, I wanted…something.

I went upstairs and cleaned up the mess, trying to clean off the lipstick, reshape the little cornflake box.  I never forgot:  Boys break things.

Recently, when I was visiting my daughter Erin, she asked the girls what they know about boys.  Without even looking up from their playing, they said in unison: “Boys break things.”  Another generation learns the hard truth.