My Son, The Odd Duck

I wrote about my daughter and how she gets Johnny Depp and movies and acting. Now, I have to write my son. My son who is an Odd Duck. My son who marches to his own beat. And I love him for it.

My seven year old little boy is so different from other little boys. He's not into sports or wrestling or cars or anything like that. We tried the basketball and baseball, but...after two seasons, he decided he needed a break. And that's exactly what he told us. "Mom. Dad. I need a break."

My son has a thing for cartoons. More than most children. He not only enjoys watching them, but he loves drawing them. And actually, he's quite good too. He has big dreams of becoming an illustrator or a cartoonist. His biggest goal is to one day work for Pixar/Disney/Nickelodeon.

Speaking of Pixar, the day after the Golden Globes, he comes downstairs and says "Mom, I wrote a letter to Lee Unkrich. Can you mail it?"

My response was "Ummm..who? What?"

"Lee Unkrich!" he said with an annoyed sigh like I should totally know who the heck Lee Unkrich is.

"Sure, Bubba," I said. No...my son is not really named Bubba. We don't live in the south. But it is my nickname for him. "Sure, Bubba. But...who the heck is Lee Unkrich."

"MOM! He directed Toy Story 3!!! And he won that award last night!!!"


Oh. Yea. I should I have known. My son is obsessed with anything Toy Story right now. He actually saved up his money to buy Lotso. You know...the pink, dirty bear that smells like strawberries. Now Lotso and my Bubba are inseparable. While other seven year old boys are playing with Backugan or WWE figures, he has Lotso.


But I was proud. He sees Toy Story as more than just a cartoon. A little kid movie. He knows that there is so much work that goes into it. He understands that there are directors and producers and actors and artists and writers that all come together to make a spectacular film.

He also has a bit of a morbid sense when it comes to movies. He seems to become enthralled with movies that are based on actual events that really happened. Bad events that really happened.

Like Titanic. It's one of his favorite movies of all times.


He's been bugging me to please watch Pearl Harbor. Another subject that fascinates him. It's been making its rounds on tv, but I haven't been able to catch it early enough in the evening for him to watch the whole thing.


The other day, I had put on Dr. Zhivago. He was playing nicely with my daughter until he wandered into the den and spotted the train scene.

He sat down. He stuck around, abandoning his sister. He was taken by how they would only let 50 persons in the cars and how they slept on wooden bunks with straw. How it was a long journey and a dangerous one. How cold it was. How they passed through burned villages.

Holding onto Lotso, he was engrossed, asking me if it really happened. Unfortunately, yes.

Titanic. Pearl Harbor. A war in cold, bleak Russia. These are the things that interest him. It's such a far extreme from Woody, Buzz, Phineas, Ferb, and Spongebob, his other interests. In some ways he seems a little immature, but then he sees these historical based movies and he wants to discuss them. Break them down. Learn from them. And argue that there was no reason for the bad events to happen. And suddenly he is wise beyond his years.

My little odd boy. He's either going to grow up to be a fantastic artist. Or a wonderful history teacher. My odd little boy with his strawberry scented teddy bear and a thirst for history. I wouldn't have him any other way.