nevermind. i'll stay on this island

It’s taken some long, sideways glances and deep thoughts to sort out what it is about boys and doing stuff. This thesis is not merely an indictment of my two test subjects on the Hilltop; they are merely the most visible and easiest to study on a daily basis. Not only are they not the only brace of daft children currently plying this trade – they merely represent what was no doubt true for a great many children of the past, myself excluded, of course...

The battle that must rage in their head whenever a choice is presented that offers two things: first, something they would like to have or do; second, actual physical movement required to either have or do that thing. Here’s an example:

X: “H, would you like to go to the video store and pick out a DVD?”
H: “Cool! I want to get see the new Miyazaki movie! Yes.”
X: “All right. Let’s head out.”
H: “Hmm. Do I have to put on my shoes?”
X: “Yes. You’ll have to go in the store to find a DVD. You’ll need shoes.”
H: “Hmm. Are we going to drive there?”
X: “Yes. Why?”
H: “How long will it take?”
X: “I don’t know, ten minutes or so…”
H: “How long to get back?”
Todd: “You’re laying on the couch staring at the ceiling!”
H: “What?”
X: “We’ll be gone for a total of thirty minutes.”
H: “Nevermind, I don’t want a movie”
X: “Fine. We’ll be back in a bit.”
H: (calling from beyond) “Can you find me a movie while you’re there?”

The problem is quiet riveting and the human nature appalling. What we’re asking ourselves – and I’m now including most men in this generalization – is this: is the caloric output of putting on my underwear really worth the embarrassment of getting caught walking to the kitchen buck naked for a glass of juice? From that the decision one no doubt falls towards not spending critical life energy bending over and putting on the underwear. It’s merely a skip to the point where we decide we’ll just have to survive while actually dying of thirst in the warm bed. And with that, an actual conversation from yesterday afternoon that began as we stopped to talk to H. while he was walking home from the Metro and we were driving to the grocery store.

X: (rolling down window) “We’re going to the store. We’ll be back shortly.”
H: “I want to ride along.” (climbs in the backseat) “I’m DYING of thirst!”
X: “We don’t have any water, why didn’t you just walk home?”
H: “I thought this was a better option for water.”
X: “Sorry, pickle.”
(Galactica cruises to the Balducci’s parking lot.)
H: (looks up from a book) “Where are we?”
X: “At the store. Do you want to come in?”
H: “Is there water in there?”
X: “There might be a drinking fountain.”
H: “Hmm.” (wheels turning, calories considered….)
X: “Henry? Are you coming in? I thought you were dying of thirst.”
H: “Hmm. I think I’ll just stay here.”
X: “Fine.”
H: (calling from beyond) “Can you bring me some water?”

The prosecution rests.

t