Sippican Cottage

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sippicancottage

sippicancottage

A Man Who Has Nothing In Particular To Recommend Him Discusses All Sorts of Subjects at Random as Though He Knew Everything

Honest Ta Gawd, It’s Awlways Somethin’ With These Boys

I have no idea how to raise a girl. I can’t even figure out the adult ones. Divine Providence has wisely skipped giving me a girl to raise, knowing I’d surely botch it.

But this all-male anthropomorphic demolition derby we’re running around here is really something to behold, sometimes.

8 Responses

  1. Shackles and leg irons, I tell you, shackles and leg irons.

    They’ll adjust quickly.

    Just be sure to use long sticks when pushing the food into the cage.

  2. Yep, boys. I’m the middle of three. Older brother had two, I had two, younger brother had three. All boys. All the time. Great photo.

  3. Three boys for me, followed by a girl…so I could recall all over again what it feels like to be a rookie parent.

    I wouldn’t change them.

  4. We have three girls….and it seems like I had my own parking space at the ER.

    Two broken collar bones (each by the late-youngest while Mom was in the hospital with new-youngest).

    Blown out knee (ACL) playing kick-the-can.

    Bean in a softball game (angry for being taken out of the game because of the blood-flow from an ear).

    Myriad less dramatic injuries that soccer and softball backstops tend to accumulate. Did I mention the youngest played semipro football (ala NFL)?

    Kids is kids.

    God love them. I do.

  5. Hope the injury heals well.

    Thinking back to my childhood, it was almost expected that boys would at some time get to wear a heavy white plaster cast that all the kids would autograph. I think we all secretly wished we could wear one, just for a day.
    -Deb in Madison

  6. What Larry said. Our oldest, the girl, has been in the ER almost every year of her life. We keep waiting for the call from DFS.

    The boys? They decided to play baseball indoors in winter. Younger son stands on a chair to bat (with a plastic golf club). Older son wants to show what he’s made of, so he pitches the Barrel of Monkeys (Remember those?) hard as he can. The younger one still has a scar between his eyes.

    At least we weren’t throwing balls in the house, dad!

  7. Have recently become a father to my first child…a girl at a time in my life when
    I thought being a father wasnt ever going to happen…little girls…angels !

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