I have little opinion on anything. Give me a cause and I’ll play devil’s advocate if in the mood. Otherwise I’ll just knock you out by conventional means.
Yes, boxing. ‘Schuesseleffekt’. It’s when your brain wooshes around its bowl, a bit like jelly warming up. How anyone can encourage their son to take up boxing is beyond me. No offence to you, Chuck, should you read this. Your brain seems to have survived remarkably well.
My father who was always good at being blunt about how the real world works explained “Schuesseleffekt” to me. Can’t remember why. I wasn’t in the market for boxing.
Yes, boxing. Insert pregnant pause. Of course, at times we all pummel a cushion. Better than kicking the cat. Or shouting at the dog you don’t have. But boxing? At age five? Yes, Sweetheart, you know who I am addressing. Guns? Driving? Under age? Sexist remarks you make all the the time. Disparaging. Taking suggestive photos of your teenage nieces. Publishing them on the internet? Mother of your son going ballistic when your joint five year old drops his trousers? Only re-enacting what he does experience? Give me a break. Go back to the drawing board.
You can’t have it both ways: Either you enhance testosterone at – possibly too early an age – or you let it rest.
One piece of advice: I know you and your mother don’t see eye to eye. No doubt, in MY eye, HER fault. But do not, and I mean it – and obviously can only go by your blog’s narrative – make both your sons’ mothers into the bogey women. Your sons won’t thank you for it. As good a father as you may be: Little gets between a son and his mother.