Cowboy Obsessed

May 3, 2012

Dear Atticus,
You're obsessed with all things cowboy.  You have been for about six months now.

ob·sess 

v. ob·sessed, ob·sess·ing, ob·sess·es

To preoccupy the mind of excessively; to think about something unceasingly or persistently.

Yes siree, that's you alright.  I believe it all started with your fascination of guns.  Every once in awhile we go out shooting or collecting brass (bullets as you call them) as a family.  You LOVE these outings.  
Grandma Cindy treated us to a movie the other day and you had no desire to go.  You kept saying you just wanted to go find bullets.

Your love for guns soon turned into a desire to be a police officer.  You started to pretend shoot anything and everything.  Animals, buildings, people... Christmas lights.  You talked about being a cop so you could "shoot the bad guys".  This had me a little worried.  Papa sat you down and told you that it's not okay to shoot animals and people.  He said something along the lines of Jesus making all living things and that we need to be kind to them.  You asked, "Well, what can we shoot then?"  He told you that we only shoot animals if we're going to eat them for our food.  You asked what kind of animals and he rattled off a few, including deer.  The next day at Preschool you made an announcement to each child as soon as they walked in the door, "Jesus said we can shoot deers!".

Because of your love for guns Grandpa Dewey bought you two cowboy style cap guns for Christmas and boy howdy do you ever love them!  The granparents also bought a huge bouncing horse to keep at their house for "all the grandkids".  Wink, wink.  Grandpa Dewey told me he got it mostly because he wanted to see Atticus' face when he first got on it and that every cowboy needs a horse.

We happened to see some cowboy boots close to your size (two sizes too big) at the Thriftstore about a month later and you went wild over them so of course I had to get them.  You wear them everywhere, usually on the wrong feet and sometimes with shorts.  The last time Grandpa Dewey came to town he couldn't wait to take you to the "cowboy store" and buy you a hat.   So now you have guns, boots, and a hat.  Apparently that's not good enough.  The other day you told me that I needed to buy you  some cowboy pants and shirts.  I explained that you already had everything you needed to be a cowboy.  You replied, "Well, I don't want to be a pretend cowboy.  I want to be a real cowboy!"

When Grandma Livvy babysits you on Mondays and Wednesdays she always lets you watch cartoons for a little while.  Well, cartoons no longer interest you.  All you want to watch are old black and white Westerns!  All those cowboys, guns and horses... Yee-haw! 

Now that you're so into Westerns you think you're quite the expert on Cowboys and Indians.  While at preschool the other day all the children were playing when you suddenly (and loudly) proclaimed that you don't like Indians.  I nervously glanced around the room to see if any of the other children had heard, specifically to see if Melissa* was paying attention.

"Yes you do Atticus."

You raised your eyebrows and defiantly said, "No, I don't.  Indians are bad."

Nervous gulp.  I quickly grabbed your arm and led you to the other room.

"Atticus, that's not nice to say.  Melissa is an Indian."

You chuckled and looked at me incredulously, "No she's not."

"Yes, she is, that's why her skin is brown.  She's called a Native American Indian.  Indians don't wear clothes like in the Westerns and they're not bad either.  They're very nice people."

Your eyes went wide, shock and amazement written all over your face.  "Well, they fight the cowboys."

"They don't anymore.  They're all friends now."

You just stood there with your mouth open, not sure if you should believe me or not.

"Don't ever say you don't like Indians or that they're bad, okay?"

You hesitated, "Well... okay."

I wasn't sure if you got the point until a few days later when we were at the Thriftstore (again) and you saw a Navajo sand painting.  You were so excited to see the Indian and you said you loved it and begged me to buy it so you could hang it in your room.  You also saw a stuffed animal horse and a cowboy belt.  Intense begging followed.  I bought all three of them secretly while I had you preoccupied with a book.  Hopefully your cowboy obsession lasts until your Birthday because you have some serious Cowboy gifts coming your way.

This is what we bought at "Cowboy Collectibles" when we were in Panguitch the other day:

Giddyup Cowboy.
Love, Mama

*Melissa's name has been changed. :)