Skippy and the Arsonist

I have told my friends all along how I am petrified of having a little girl. I have two rough n tumble boys. Thats what I know. Thats what Im comfortable with. I fool myself into thinking of all the pitfalls I will avoid that one can fall victim to when raising girls, that I forget that I am raising boys and they come with their own heap of troubles.
They get dirty. They put crap in their pockets that destroy entire loads of laundry. They break bones. They bleed. They fight. They ride on the dogs. They climb on things they have no business climbing on. They have a testosterone fueled need to set things on fire. They eat bugs. They eat bugs they have set on fire. They dare other boys to eat bugs they have set on fire.
I never did any of this. In fact I was told I ate nothing but peanut butter as a kid. I played nice and never EVER got into trouble.
Right mom?...no?....well anyways.
Speaking of my mom, she told me a story about something my brother did when he was around 5 or 6 years old. (which made me about 2 or 3 at the time.) She walked into his room and found him with a book of matches. Horrified but calm, she took the matches from him and sat him down on the bed. She explained to him the dangers of fire and how destructive it can be. She pointed to all of the stuff in his room and told him how they would burn up and he wouldn't have them anymore. The blanket on his bed. All of his toys. Even his precious Elmer Fudd doll. Im pretty sure she drove the point home with the mention of Elmer Fudds fiery demise. What she wasn't paying attention to however was the little girl standing in the doorway listening to the potentially catastrophic tragedies that would unfold should her big brother get the brilliant idea to play with fire. And this little girl did not hear any mention of the most important thing of all. Screw the blankets and toys and Elmer Fudd. Burn baby burn.
My mom turned around and saw me standing there and I looked at her, wide eyed and with what Im sure was a voice dripping with Armageddon level fear, asked her, "Will the peanut butter burn?"
Yes. Yes little girl, the peanut butter will burn and you know why? Because your brother is a BOY.

Im doomed.