To Be a Little Boy

What must it be like to be a little boy?
To have unidentified substances under your fingernails.
To make things with boxes and paper and tape and feathers.
To devour an afternoon snack with great gusto.
To slay imaginary dragons with sticks and plungers and wrapping paper rolls and brooms.
What must it be like to be a little boy?
To always smell faintly of puppy.
To take such delight in rocks.
To glow at the praise of your daddy.
To want to be just like him.
What must it be like to be a little boy?
To flex bony arm muscles.
To dig.
To long to be in charge of something.
To be allergic to baths. And homework. And girls.
What must it be like to be a little boy?
To be fascinated with trucks and rockets and robots and airplanes.
To climb.
To practice whistling for hours.
To practice spitting every time you go outside.
And what must it be like to be a man?
To bear the weight of your responsibility on your bended knees.
To slay the dragons that try to devour your family's unity and faith and finances.
To glow at the praise of your spouse.
To still be fascinated with trucks and rockets and robots and airplanes.
And to tell your little boy how very proud of him you are.
Because you know exactly what it's like
To be a little boy.