My biggest concern about having a boy was (and still is) that I don't understand them. I love them, but I do not understand them.
Today I was told a story by my friend, we'll call him Joe, who went to a Michael Buble concert recently. He was there with his wife and another couple. He enjoys the Buble, but was teasing his wife and friends about going to the concert - just having fun. This was before the show, so not interrupting anything onstage. He was saying things like, "Hooray, hooray, Michael Buble." The gist I get is that Joe thought it might be interpreted as effeminate to be there (note that Joe was, in fact, there and happily so).
A gentleman, and I use the term loosely, behind him didn't appreciate his humor. He poked Joe hard in the middle of the back and said, "Shut up!" What he described that ensued was very testosterone-ridden. At one point Joe actually asked the guy (at a Michael Buble concert) whether they needed to go outside to settle it. Amazing. Joe also noted that the guy was "a 62-year old, balding, fat, stumpy guy." (Please understand I have nothing against the type - just describing in Joe's words for the story's sake.) What I find most interesting about this is that Joe is, I believe, 53. He's in good shape, but (even given that it's okay to pick a fight, which is a stretch) how can Joe make fun of the guy behind him for not knowing when he's too old to pick a fight, and then, probably less than ten years younger than the guy, invite him outside to settle it? I really don't understand. I'm sure happy I wasn't there.
On a side note, Joe asked the guy how he enjoyed the show afterward, and the guy apologized and said they'd both overreacted. They shook hands. Two-hour grudge settled; fight avoided.
Oh, that Aidan remains the cuddly, loving little boy that he is today.