Hardwired

Daniel's school is closed today for Martin Luther King Day. The university is not closed, however, so we drove Tab into work as usual. The university is pretty stingy with holidays: there are no holidays at all between New Year's Day and Memorial Day at the end of May.

We stopped at Barnes & Noble on the way home and lingered in the kids' area; I browsed the shelves while the boys looked at books. Daniel read a Dr. Suess book to Stephen and Matthew. I found "Chess for Kids," a book that comes with a chess board and pieces. I bought it, thinking it might be a good way to start Daniel off.

By the time we got home it was after 11. The boys had been invited to a birthday party for one of Daniel's classmates, and I had just barely enough time to finish wrapping Patrick's birthday gift before we headed out to meet Patrick and the rest of the guests at the movie theater. Patrick's mother, Patty treated the boys to Stuart Little and bought popcorn and soda for everyone. Though they didn't like the soda, my boys were thrilled with the popcorn. When Tab and I take them to the movies, we never buy snacks. The ticket prices alone are too expensive, forget the concessions!

The Destina on South Broad Street is relatively new movie theater, having opened last year around the same time as the AMC 24. It, too, is a multiplex with stadium seating. Unlike the AMC 24, however, the seats at the Destina are of the folding variety. This presents a problem for Stephen and Matthew who are such featherweights that they can't hold the seats down with their body weight alone. I had to go in search of booster chairs for them; the added weight prevented the twins from being folded up inside the theater seats.

The kids all liked Stuart Little. I thought it was an enjoyable bit of fluff. It departed greatly from the novel, and it was not the equal of, say, Toy Story 2 or The Iron Giant. And why are cats always the bad guys in these stories? As a cat lover, the vilification of cats has always bugged me.

After the movie we all went to McDonald's for Patrick's party. Patty bought Happy Meals for the boys and lunches for the parents. Last week Patty had told me she had considered having Patrick's party at Romp Around, an indoor playground, but that she thought it was too expensive. Between the movie tickets, concessions, and the fast food, I think she must have spent almost that much money, however.

The boys--my three, Patrick, Danny, and Patrick's other friend, Michael--raced around like wild things through the playland maze. They also spent a lot of time in the ball pit, wrestling. The four older boys were pouncing on each other, rolling around, pulling each other's legs and knocking one another down into the balls. The twins were taking part, too. Matthew threw balls at the others, and Stephen hurled himself kamikaze-style into the tangle of older boys. I went over to the ball bit to check on them a few times, but I couldn't watch them for too long. They were just so rough with each other, I was sure someone would get hurt.

I thought, not for the first time, that boys are a different species altogether. Their interactions are always so physical: cuffing and hitting and wrestling, both in play and in conflict. When we were growing up, my sisters and I may have argued and even screamed at each other sometimes, but we never fought in a physical manner.

Once again I come up against the differences between males and females. I came of age in the late 1970s, and was inspired by the feminism of that era. One of the beliefs I formed in those days was that gender differences were attributable solely to cultural influences. In the years since, I've had to abandon that belief. Having three sons has eradicated my last lingering doubts: males and females are different, and those differences are hardwired.

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