Since I've had boys, I've had the opportunity to witness a certain male camaraderie that I had hitherto been completely unaware existed. When I go out in public with my all-male crew, men cheer me. I've never had a man ask me if I was done trying for my girl. They wink at my boys in the deli line and congratulate me, they talk sports and recommend movies to my boys when we visit the hardware store, they count them up with admiration and honor me with their "SIX!" like it's a trophy of some sort. They smile and nod with approval when we pass, they offer all manner of hand shakes to my boys and my boys respond in kind. There's a certain clubbiness about it, a certain male team spirit my boys understand. I don't know how they learned it, but I know they didn't learn from me. It's a male thing. It's a good thing. It makes me smile when I see it.
Just today, our kitchen cabinet man came to repair a drawer and the fraternizing started the moment he walked in the door. He was counting them, smiling, admiring whatever they showed him and saying, "Look at these brothers," over and over with satisfaction. He told them they should watch "The Little Rascals" and when he saw Micah in Simeon's arms he put his hand out. "Give me five, big guy," he said to Micah.
"He doesn't know that..." I was about to say, when Micah pushed off Simeon's chest with his feet, leaned well over Simeon's shoulder to get a better angle and slapped the kitchen cabinet man's hand smack in the middle of the palm. Micah gave him five, ten, and fifteen before I had the chance to say a word. Looks like male society takes its members fairly young.