The Difference Between Two Boys


The other day my two year old called me Chris. Many times he heard my wife call me by my first name and he decided the time was right to give it a whirl. This is my second child, so I didn't let it bother me like I might have were it my older son.

Of course, my older son never called me by my first name. As a matter of fact, my older son never did anything even remotely mischevious. He lulled my wife and I into a feeling of expertise, like we had mastered parenting and could do no wrong. So we decided to have a second child.

Then we discovered the difference between two boys. My younger son, Max, is a lot like I was as a child. He is daring and ballsy and fears very little. He reminds me of the days when I was a child and I would refer to my mother as "your old lady" to my father, or when I dared young Mike Coe to pet a 200 pound saint bernard, and then watched in delight as the dog threw him around the yard like a rag doll for fifteen minutes.

I have a feeling that I will be at school quite a bit with Max as he grows older explaining the difference between him and his older brother to teacher after teacher. I'm ok with that as long as he turns out as spectacular as I did. There is only one thing I secretly hope he does. I secretly hope that he bareass farts on his brothers face as I did to my older sister. I still think that is one of my greatest accomplishments as a child and I will be proud of that for many years.
Insane!!!