Last week I came across a funny blog post in which Colleen Duggan compared the First Communion experiences between her son and her daughter. Her daughter's First Communion involved dress, shoes, veil, gloves and hair, with the entire process eliciting all kinds of emotions. But her son's First Communion? A new suit and some Star Wars underwear.
I had to laugh because it was so true. Here's what I had to do for Timothy's First Communion last year: I ironed his shirt and dressed him in the same blazer and pants his brothers had worn. That's it. Then the second Mass was over ... off came his tie! then his blazer! and before I realized it he was running around in his dress pants, dress shoes, and an undershirt; in fact, here is his assessment of the entire day: the wine burned my mouth, the bread tasted like cardboard, I wasn't nervous at all, I got tired of everyone taking my picture, and I liked opening the presents.
Boys ... they're about as uncomplicated as you can get.
And when little boys grow to be young men, they're still pretty uncomplicated.
Take prom, for example. As the mother of boys, I tend to forget how the day (and sometimes, weeks) leading up to the prom is just as important as the actual event; that for girls, prom involves trips to the mall to find that perfect dress, shopping for the perfect shoes, making a hair appointment, getting a manicure, and coordinating everything with makeup and jewelry.
Yikes. All my son has to do is rent a tuxedo.
In defense of my son, though, he did have to do some work. Why, just last week when he went to get fitted for his tux, he agonized over his bow tie and cummerbund color choices. Holding his iPhone, he pulled up a photo of his date's dress and then spent 20 minutes going back and forth between the photo, the samples hanging on the rack, and the magazine on the counter. Icy blue? Baby blue? Powder blue?Teal or not teal? The entire process was then repeated when he went to pick out a corsage.
In the end, he picked out (I am sure) the perfect color for his bow tie/cummerbund and the perfect corsage for his date, but the entire affair was so draining he came home and took a nap.
I laugh, but I love it all. I love how boys keep life interesting and, truthfully, uncomplicated. I love how little boys -- with their frogs, and snails, and puppy dog tails (and Star Wars underwear) -- somehow and miraculously turn into handsome young men.
And I love that, no matter how grown up they become, that little boy never quite goes away ... ever.