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Delusional Aeronautics

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Pudding is pretty much your average little boy – oh my, he’s a little boy and not a toddler, let me just digest that for a moment. Okay, moving on. He is an average little boy. I’m not sure what that means to other people but to me it means slightly insane. Okay, a lot insane.

All young children are a little bit insane. They all throw tantrums and make mess and yell and scream etc, etc. The thing that I have observed about both of my boys is, they take this to completely new level. They transcend ordinary childish crazies and inhabit the Land of Boy.

The Land of Boy is full of fighting and dragons, of dinosaurs and monsters, of Star Wars and aliens. To inhabit the Land of Boy you must be prone to climbing the side of the house, when no one is looking, so that you can adjust the antenna attached to the chimney. You must be fascinated with all things tools and trains and cars. To top it off, a trip to the Land of Boy would never be complete if one didn’t fashion a full arsenal of weaponry from whatever one has to hand. In our house, place mats are rarely used as such, they are invariably transformed into guns or swords and used to attack the kneecaps of those preparing dinner.

The whole family is accepting of Pudding’s crazy ways. He will mellow and chill out a decent amount over the next few years. In the meantime he is reasonably entertaining, if somewhat cringeworthy when he attacks members of the public whilst we are out shopping.

One of his favourite things lately is jumping. Jumping off of tables, jumping between pieces of furniture, jumping on his bed. The lad likes to jump. He will often shout “SuperPudding!” as he jumps from the couch to the ottoman and can frequently be found muttering to himself about flying and capes and such.

We had no idea , until the other day, that Pudding does not fully understand the difference between jumping and flying. This inhabitant of the Land of Boy fully believes in all honesty that he can fly. In fact, he believes he does fly, as he leaps about the house in his insanity and it is only his love for us that prevents him from flying off into the sunset to hunt dragons. The other day, Rhuabarb mentioned to him that it wasn’t technically flying. The resulting meltdown was so enormous that we found ourselves assuring him that he could, of course fly beautifully, just to get some peace.

Until this little phase is over I will be constantly watching out of the corner of my eye to ensure that he does not attempt to fly in a fashion that could see him injured or killed. It has me slightly paranoid.

The thing is, I can’t help being a little bit impressed with him, and a touch jealous. How wonderful must life be to be so self-assured (and delusional) that you can convince yourself you are able to fly just because you wish it? His little world must be a marvellous place to be.

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7 responses

  1. Mine is a jumper. She’s a dragon, so she has to practice flying. I think she wishes she could; knows she can’t, but hasn’t quite given up hope. She doesn’t come from the Land of Boy, or even live there, but she’s been known to visit from time to time.

    tinsenpup’s last blog post… Grace In Small Things: 5 of 365

    • So good to hear. I was a girl-child who inhabited the Land of Boy, Poss is so firmly girly that Pudding’s boyishness drives her bonkers. I have a feeling our bubba girl may be a frequent visitor to the L of B!

  2. He sounds like a WONDERFUL little boy. And it’s lovely when the big ones indulge him. Yesterday, I had a little puppy, and his sister would accept his lickey dog kisses and then bring him back to me periodically. “I found your dog. He was lost.” And he’d jump into my arms and roll over so that I could scratch his tummy. the Land of Boy is a magical place.

    badness jones’s last blog post… You’ve got to be kidding….

  3. That’s so cute! I wish I was young enough to believe I could fly.

    bevchen’s last blog post… Four days

  4. We don’t have flying – thank god. But we do have jumping. Lots of. Bouncing. Even more. Attacking with swords et al continuous. A-pair to die you scabby dogs – type of yelling to accommpany it all. Got to love boys.

    Homeofficemum’s last blog post… I’ve had a rush of blood to the head

  5. Oh God! Oscar also inhabits the land of boy. His bird obsession might well develop into a love of flying a la pudding. This will mean I have to have another set of eyes grafted on. Dammit!

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