Makeup?

John Abraham ran up the stairs, jubilation in his voice, shouting "look at me, look at me mom, I'm wearing makeup!"

Of course, I was primarily concerned with how to get this red marker off of his face.  To avoid cracking up in front of my boy, I sent him into Steven's office to be dealt with by his daddy.  And, of course, Steven's primary concern was the fact that John Abraham, our only boy, was "wearing makeup."  He lectured him on the difference in boys and girls and repeated the mantra "boys don't wear makeup, that's for girls" a few dozen times. 

Obsessed much? 

If I didn't know my boy was ALL BOY I would have had the same concern, but we're talking about the kid who jumps off of anything, sticks whatever he can find into any electrical socket, dives head first into any pile of dirt no matter how small and can't seem to keep his hands out of his pants. 

He      is     such     a     guy.  

And, if all that weren't enough, he.... um... appreciates the female form.  

Already.

This is going to be interesting.