By KATE HUNTER
Why do boys get such a bad rap?
When I tell people we’re having ten of my son’s mates over for his twelfth birthday, why do they squeeze my arm and look at me with pitying eyes?
Why, when I say how much I enjoy our son and his friends do they reply, ‘Yes, they’re lovely now, but just you wait.’ As if they’re foreseeing the apocalypse?
I hate to say it (but I will) it’s often the mothers of all or only girls who express the most sympathy. They’re a teensy bit scared of boys.
They worry if boys outnumber girls in a class by even one, and stress if the playground’s a bit testosteroney. They’ll keep well away from a group of boys at the movies and hide breakables if a boy should visit their home.
When did ‘boys will be boys’ become shorthand for, ‘Behaving like rabid dogs’?
I want to shout, DON’T BE SCARED OF THE BOYS. They’re not all ill mannered, rough, foul-mouthed imbeciles. They may turn into them, sure, but so might our girls, so until they do, let’s treat them like they’re terrific. Because they are. The ones I know, at least.