Many of my friends with boys tell me at some point or another "He's all boy" when describing their little guys. I always inquire what, exactly, they mean by that. They'll generally tell me about the rambunctiousness of their child, how he loves to play in dirt and play with trucks and run around tirelessly. And, when I was a mom of just a girl, I would think to myself "Don't all kids do that? Certainly my daughter does." I sort-of rolled my eyes at the "all boy" comment.
Today, however, I got a little dose of what "all boy" means. This morning Tate ran over to me, looked right at me, headbutted me in the face, laughed and ran away. And all I could think was "He's all boy."