Women Carry Purses...

 Little J is coming up on his third birthday next month. Apparently, he has chosen age two years and eleven months for a new developmental milestone, namely figuring out the differences between men and women.

We passed through the “enamored with my own anatomy” phase quite a few months ago. Now, Little J is fascinated with trying to find rules that apply to only men or only women.
For example:
Little J: What color is Daddy’s car?
Me: Silver.
Little J: Oh, what color is your car?
Me: Black.
(Keep in mind, Little J knows his colors. He just likes to play the “what color is your fill in the blank here” game with everyone he sees. I guess it is revenge for us trying to teach him his colors by constantly asking him what color everything was. Turnabout is fair play.)
Little J: So men have silver cars and mommies have black cars?

Then follows a pathetic attempt by me to explain that men and women can drive any color cars they want. And, by the way, not all women are mommies. I’m really going to screw this kid up, aren’t I?

Yesterday, he developed a new fascination with who exactly carries purses. We went through a litany of family members, identifying if each carries a purse or not. Little J seemed to grasp that women carry purses and men don’t (with a noted exception for diaper bags). I figured that the subject was closed and that we would move onto our next obsession. Wrong.

Today, we stopped at Starbucks to get our daily fixes: caffeine for me and vanilla milk for him. He always enjoys chatting up the barristas who oooh and aaah over him to his delight. Except for this morning when the following conversation took place.

Starbucks barrista girl: How are you this morning, cutie?
Little J: Good. Do you have a purse?
SB: Yes I do.
Little J: I not have a purse – I a boy.
SB: Oh? Boys don’t carry a purse, do they?
Little J: No, they carry a penis.

Cue shocked look on barrista’s face.
I think I’ll use the drive through for a while.