Was He Born This Way?

"I want to be a hunter so I can kill animals. And hunters don't even have to go to college!"

"Daddy! Grandma brought me back a whole fish from Mazatlan so I can help her chop, chop, chop its head off, poke the eyeballs, and scoop out the guts!

"When Grandma cleaned the fish, she scooped out the brain and blood squirted out all over the place!"

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These words were enthusiastically pronounced by my five year old son, Diego. Where does he get this gory ideology? Do all boys take such joy in blood and guts? I know that I certainly did not. I know that Giancarlo certainly did not. None of my daughters ever spoke like this. He doesn't watch gore on TV. Is it the other boys at preschool? Or is it the product of his own rapid firing boy brain or a chemical imbalance? Perhaps it's because he has two fathers, one of them overbearing and the other passive? Is it due to the double dose of testosterone and lack of estrogen in Daddy and Papi? Maybe he has been secretly indoctrinated by an adult male family member, an uncle, perhaps; a recruitment.

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What would I do if he decided to pursue a life of hunting? What if, as a teenager, instead of asking for video games or iPods, he asks for guns, knives, duck decoys, hip waders and tackle boxes? What if his life's desire is to move to Montana and hunt during every type of hunting season? What if his idea of decorating is to hang trophy heads all over the living room? What if his idea of getting dressed up is a camouflage vest and some huntin' boots? And furry hats with ear flaps? And what if he ritualistically drags bloody deer up the driveway so he can butcher them in the garage? What if he wants to hang a gun rack on the back window of his over sized pick-up truck? What if, when we grow old, he makes us eat venison and pheasant? None of this seems natural.

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I suppose I would need to learn to accept it, even though it is something that is utterly foreign to me, even though I just don't understand the attraction. Oh, of course I would have to put aside my hopes and dreams of my son leading a normal life, growing up and buying food at the grocery store like God intended. I hope that he is happy having those elk and bison heads to keep him company and love him. . . I just don't want him to be alone.

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And above all, I hope he uses preventative measures and protection, like hunter's safety courses and insect repellent. I don't want him to get hurt, or catch one of those diseases you hear about.

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Ultimately, I just want him to be happy, and if that means that I should adapt to allow him that happiness, then. . . I will.

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