Army guys

I was taking Forrest to work with me one morning in downtown Portland when we saw a young man wearing his army combat uniform. You know the kind, it's the camouflaged desert storm look. The soldier was talking with his friends as he got off the Max. I imagined he was on leave from Iraq, glad to be home again and hanging with his buddies. Forrest took one look at him and proclaimed , "See mom, he's not dead yet!". Forrest has an issue with vocal control. He is louder in public than he should be. Mortified, I pretended that I didn't hear him as we got in line in at Starbucks.

I know exactly what Forrest was really telling me. He was saying, "See mom, you were wrong - guys in the Army all don't get killed so you should give me back my army guy action figures that I like to play with". I was busted. He had accused me of throwing away his "army guys" when we moved. Oops. I was cleaning up and "accidentally" tossed those little green plastic guys in the trash. I am a liar. I lie to my cognitively impaired child. I justify it.

At 18, Forrest's selective services registration form came in the mail.It's the "draft" requirement for young men in this country. Boy did I have fun with that. You get to fill out the part explaining why you aren't eligible. There wasn't a check box that described why Forrest wasn't going to fight in any war. I got to fill in the blank spots. I am sure I am on some CIA list because of it. Forrest doesn't care about my antiwar liberal peace marching spirituality or politics. He likes playing with those Dollar Store plastic figurines. I am disturbed by this because I think he is glorifying war. I hate admitting that those billboards and television ads really work because my sweet son with an IQ score of 51 thinks it would be fun and glorious to carry a gun and shoot things. Forrest envies the guys in uniform. He wants to be powerful and wear one of those too. I won't even let him buy camo patterned clothes. It's one of the main consolation prizes that I am sure many mothers over the centuries of disabled sons have been grateful for. Now it's daughters too. But like many boys his age,(developmental age?) Forrest has a thing for war movies and army action figures. Thankfully he doesn't know enough to beg me for the World of Warcraft PS2 game.

I had to DO something so I tried to explain the realities of war and combat. We looked up the numbers of killed soldiers so far in Iraq. As of a few weeks ago it was 4,379 US Soldiers killed, 31,669 seriously wounded. I cried in front of him. I wasn't faking it. Forrest really gets nervous when I cry and he has never bugged me about playing with "army guys" after that. But when he saw that soldier near Pioneer Courthouse Square, everything clicked into place. He knew I was wrong and he wants to play with his army guys again. "See mom, that guys not dead yet!"