Boys throw things.
Consider it good practice to becoming the star quarterback every father dreams their son will become. However, given the husband and I's genetics, Tyler will probably end up a beefy, sweaty middle linebacker. Sorry kid, an underwear model you won't be. But that's another post...
Boys throw, fling, toss, chuck, hurl, pitch, heave, lob, cast, and wing an assortment of items. Even things that aren't suppose to be thrown.
I can remember my sister telling the story of my oldest nephew winging a wooden toy train four pews up and beaning some little old church lady in the back of the head right in the middle of the pastor's sermon. And when the little old lady turned around to identify the culprit, my sister took the blame like an adult. Me, I would have displayed my astonishment face, thumbed behind me and kinda shrugged. No sense causing a scene in church, who knows what church ladies carry in their large handbags.
Tyler, for a 2yr old boy, has a pretty good arm (mental note: no wooden trains in church). He'll wind up, arm back above his head his left leg hiked up to his chest, stomp down and grunt as he throws the ball hurtling it across the room. To him, this is awesome.
He has also started throwing temper tantrums. Mind you, these aren't the first, and they certainly won't be the last. But they are the first that involve throwing object to display his frustration.
So his frustration with mommy saying "no" coupled with his mutant he-man arm, sends me diving for cover behind the sofa.
The husband, however just sits on the couch, unfazed, with a gleam in his eye daydreaming about his son, the starting pitcher for the Cleveland Indians, as a plastic squeaky ball bounces off his forehead.