The other day I dropped Jackson off at preschool and got him settled down at the snack table next to his pal Caitlin, who immediately put her wee skinny arm around him and said to me, "Jackson is my best friend." As Caitlin laid her cheek on Jackson's shoulder his eyes magically glazed over and he stared blankly at some ants performing maneuvers on his graham cracker, and I thought, "Ah, this is where it all begins."
Earlier, the mother of a five-year-old boy had told me how she picked him up from a birthday party one afternoon and found him standing calmly and eating some cake while a little girl was yanking on his t-shirt and yelling, "But I LOVE YOU!!"
When I got home I told Jack what I'd seen and concluded, "Boys are clueless."
And Jack replied, "Boys know exactly what's going on."
Said I, "So they absorb the information, they just choose not to respond to it."
Said Jack, "Precisely."
Said I, "I can't decide whether to kill you or myself."
Said Jack, "Would you get me a beer while you're up?"