My son is two and a half, and up until somewhat recently he has been relatively content with playing with his older sister’s toys, but lately he has started to show a real interest in “boyish” toys. Our living room is now littered with cars, Thomas trains, and anything that can be fashioned into a tool of destruction. That takes a lot of getting used to, especially considering my daughter’s penchant for everything pink. Now it’s as if there is a clash of two worlds taking place right in our very own home.

I’ve been okay with all the boyish toys, and have even done my best to play with him even though I have a hard time with sitting down to play cars for any extended period of time. I’m sure my husband has the same trouble playing with Barbie and My Little Pony with my daughter, but neither of us really complain. Then last night my husband took my son to run some errands. They wound up at a store and apparently my son insisted upon a rather gruesome toy collection: a tube of plastic (but very realistic-looking) bugs. Some of my son’s favorites from this tube include the scorpion, the centipede, and of course the cockroach. Really, I don’t want real cockroaches in my house, let alone pretend ones.

You should see how thrilled he is with these bugs. Today I took him to the grocery store and he brought in the cockroach in one hand and the scorpion in the other. It’s just one of those things that leaves me scratching my head in confusion while also realizing that my son is quickly becoming less of a toddler and more of a little boy.