There is a lot of focus in our society on size: SUVs, skyscrapers, stretch limos, houses. On some base level, I think that we all somewhat succumb to the bigger is better model of living, whether this is in portions at Applebees, the size of our bank account, or, if you’re in Jersey, the size of your hair.
To quote an Australian philosopher “You call that a knife? This is a knife!”
But where does this obsession with size and the presumed value of such come from? Is this something we are born with, or something that the American advertising complex forces upon us? Well, if you’re curious, I think I have the answer for you.
It appears to be somewhat innate. And I’ll tell you how I know. My 3 year old Asher was talking with my wife recently and pointed at Micah, our one year old. Then, out of the blue, said:
“Micah has a little tiny penis.”
Um, ok. He then continued.
“And I have a great big penis!”
Ok, first things first. This is not actually true. In fact, I would say that in general the two boys are far more similar than different in this specific area. Secondly, where did this come from?
True, Asher is obsessed with being a “bog boy” now. He will practically break down and cry if I insensitively say something along the lines of “come on little boy.”
“I’m not a little boy! I’m a big boy!”
Apparently in more ways than one.
You don’t have to be Freud to start drawing conclusions about guys who drive Hummers or own really long rifles, but what about toddlers?
When Asher plays with his Thomas Trains he does like to make really long trains of 10-15 cars and pull them through the tunnel (hmmm, maybe I should take that tunnel down). And he does like to take our swiffer and straddle it.
Of course, I think a lot of that just comes from little boys (and heck, big boys) wanting to be bigger, stronger, faster and smarter than everyone else. Asher runs around all day long calling himself superdash, or shooting fake lasers out of his hands at strangers (that was a hoot at airport security). I think little boys just want to be superman. They want to be able to leap tall buildings, lift huge objects and best their little brothers in the bathtub.
As kids, teenagers, and then adults we just go through the painful and depressing process of realizing that we are not the strongest, fastest, smartest, or (thank you middle school swim class) the biggest.
So let Asher think highly of himself for a few more years. Soon enough, the realities of life will set in and he’ll start shopping for an Expedition.
I’m still going to take away that tunnel from the train table, though. You can’t be too safe.