No steers here

I am not a farmer's wife, though I did once watch (or rather listen to) Daniel helping Philip's farmhand, Ken, tie off the testicles on a male calf.  Apparently it is painless, once the circulation is cut off, and then they turn black and fall off.  A pasture has room for only one bull, so they tell me. All the rest of the males are tied off, becoming steers, so they can graze side by side without goring each other to death.

We explained all of this to Bright a few weeks back.  He asked what a steer was, as opposed to a bull, and we told him.  He was horrified by the thought, but he understood the logic and accepted it as a necessary evil.  He was happy, he told us, to have his own testicles in tact, so that he could be as aggressive as he wished (within reason).  We told him we were also glad.

Now there is a girl in our house, for the first time ever (moms don't really count).  It is very interesting to note our sons' reactions to this.  Zion is a perfect gentlemen, picking up her toys for her when she drops them, helping her climb things, holding her hand over the bridge that crosses the murky water in our courtyard garden.  Brave is a gentle giant.  He runs at her, full-speed, all thundering 30lbs of him, and then screeches to a halt and pats her, as gently as if she were a moth.  Bright smiles at her from across the room, and then tears off toward the couch, pummeling it with his head and hollering, "I have testicles!"

Daniel has stopped dashing to and from the clean laundry pile in the buff.  Like you needed that visual.

Nope, no steers here.  Good thing they don't have horns!