Recently, I took my young hooligans to the lake. JJ arrived, armed with life jacket, and water cannon pump gun. Because unlike girls, boys only bring the necessities.
At once, upon splashing into the refreshing water, he located two older boys. I guessed them to be around age ten or eleven. The boys were sitting pretty in a green canoe, one was holding a double barrel water gun, and the other was holding a paddle and a shield.
JJ, undeterred, plunged ahead and began to squirt them. They fought back with a vengeance, double barreling him in the face at point blank range. JJ quickly scrambled to reload, and then let them have it as best you can with a lame duck water gun. That's when I realized that my husband had it exactly right when he informed me that our son was tough and scrappy. He takes whatever measures necessary to win. I have no idea where he gets his competitive spirit from...it's not like his father or I are at all competitive... (ahem.)
The canoe boys, or sissies, as I'd like to refer to them from this point on, would get a face full of water, and then retreat behind the boundaries that I set for JJ to "under no circumstances go beyond." (Smart sissies.)
I vaguely remember "someone" yelling "Get 'em good son!" at one point, but I'm sure that would never have come from me... (cough) This little game of squirt and retreat went on and on for what seemed like hours, and I got a little bored monitoring it. Later, I glanced over to see that my son had scrambled up and into their canoe, and had stolen the double barrel gun and was firing both guns at once. One sissy big boy started crying for his mommy, and the other one jumped out of the boat and started swimming for shore.
I believe that's what they call "Scrappy King of the Hill." And you know what they say- If you wanna mess with the little boy, you're gonna get wet.
And that's all I have to say about that.