BUCKING THE SYSTEM: BOYS' BEHAVIOR LEAVES MOM CLUELESS

I am only just becoming aware how very different little boys are from girls.

I don't just mean anatomically -- I'm talking the whole psyche. They think differently, they reason differently, they play differently.

And then they grow up and become men, but that's another column.

At any rate, I've been watching my sons recently, and I'm completely clueless about some of their actions.

Take my birthday party last weekend, for instance. I invited adult friends and their children, and even provided a baby sitter for the night to entertain the children in the attic. There they were, 10 little boys all under the age of 7, all set to entertain the three girls in attendance.

To their credit, the boys did attempt to share their trucks, but the girls weren't really interested. So it was no one's fault but their own when the boys opted instead to take off their shirts so the oldest boy could teach them how to make bodily-function noises on their stomachs.

My son, Jerry, told me it was the highlight of his evening.

And speaking of bodily functions, I still am unclear what satisfaction boys get from making assorted sounds whenever they are in close vicinity to the kitchen or a table where food is present. A loud uuurrp (or whatever) is followed by sniggles and guffaws which only get louder when I protest. And when their dad or favorite uncle Reggie is present, it goes from boyish antics to a full function-o-thon, much to my dismay.

Call me crazy, but girls don't get into that kind of thing, do they?

Of course, there are other, less vulgar things that still have captured my attention.

For example, what is the fascination with guns? I have tried to be very anti-gun in my home, not even allowing my kids to play with water guns unless they looked like fish or some other animate object. And Elmer Fudd is about the only person we consciously allow our children to see shooting anybody.

Even so, from a very young age, most of the little boys I know have fashioned guns out of just about anything. They chase each other brandishing brooms, bars of soap, even packages of summer sausage at times, all so they can be imaginary cowboys and police officers.

But let's simplify this even more. What possible satisfaction can there be in splashing in a water puddle? As I remember, I never really liked getting my feet wet as a child because tennis shoes just don't dry out quickly it's more like an all-day affair.

Even so, there is a certain spot in the driveway at Jerry's preschool that always holds water after it rains, and he will go out of his way to splash in that thing on his way into the building. And when I say out of his way, I'm talking waaaay out of the way, all while I'm standing there getting my hates-to-be-wet hairdo drizzled on.

As the parent of two little boys, I am making an earnest attempt to understand them. It's partially my fault that those snails and puppy dog tails came together in such a fashion, and I love them, I really do.

But I must admit, sometimes I wish the mix had a little more sugar and spice. Maybe if I put it in the Kool-Aid. ...

Forget it. Some things just weren't meant to be tampered with.