Courvoisier II

We established in a previous post that Benjamin is becoming quite a ladies' man. Being a lady myself (and yes, I just typed that with a straight face), I've learned there is a difference between a ladies' man and a straight-up gigolo. That difference starts with the hands, or more specifically, where the hands are. If you're a ladies' man, the hands won't be on the ladies, and this is why I fear that Benjamin may be on the fast train to Gigoloville.

The first sign of trouble appeared at a recent playdate. After months of gentlemanly behavior, Benjamin made a pass at his longtime love Lucy. As I extricated his fingers from her hair, I berated myself for allowing him to watch all that trash TV with me. But then I thought, "Benjamin and Lucy are best buds," and I wrote off his grabby hands as a function of their familiarity.

What happened a week later in Atlanta at my brother's wedding disproved that theory. In keeping with Chinese tradition, I had placed Benjamin on the bridal bed next to baby Chloe, whom he met just moments before. Suddenly, Benjamin was grabbing at Chloe! Apparently it didn't matter how well he knew the girl - his hands had a life of their own. Then again, they were on a bed. I couldn't blame him, so instead, I blamed his circumstances.

Then came his third incident of bad boy behavior, which really threw me for a loop. This time, we were visiting Sydney, the new daughter of friends Kelly and Mike. Benjamin and Sydney were virtual strangers, and they were on the floor - not on a bed - so I figured there would be no hanky-panky. WRONG! I caught Benjamin trying to grab Sydney's hair.

What was going on? I showered this child with love and attention, I tried not to be overindulgent, and I got drunk only twice a week so as not to pollute my milk. What had I done to create this Casanova? As I drowned my sorrows in a cup of decaf, I glanced up to see this scene unfolding before me:

So it seemed that I'd been misreading Benjamin's intentions all along. He wasn't trying to be frisky - just friendly. And I guess that means that the cynic inside me needs to take a backseat and let the mom in me do the driving.