A few months ago some friends were visiting from Switzerland. They have a boy a bit younger than Sam, and although everyone was happy about the idea of each boy having a buddy, there was some concern over how they’d get on. Both were in their twos at the time, not the most malleable of ages nor known for great efforts at cooperation.

Sam can be generous with his toys, but it doesn’t take much to get him grabbing and clutching, hanging on with all he’s got and completely unwilling to share. Laurin, being a bit younger, had all the same tendencies.

So, the day arrives when the boys are introduced. We’re at their place, so the toys are Laurin’s, and only those packed for the trip … far from the entire collection, but a fair number. We introduce them, watch as they solemnly shake hands, then wait.

Two cups of coffee later, for the adults of course, and the atmosphere in the other room is light and fun and friendly and sharing is no issue at all.

As it turns out, Laurin is into cars, trucks, fire engines, motorcycles, tractors and anything else with wheels. Sam’s thing is animals. The collection consists of both types of toy and the boys have divvied them up with no discussion necessary. (This is good, since one kid speaks English, the other Swiss German and no one’s translating.)

Is there a gene for toy preference? Was Sam born with a hereditary predisposition to a fascination with every animal that ever walked the earth while other boys couldn’t care less about anything without wheels?

The difference between boys and girls, or between my boy and my girl to be precise, is most easily marked by treatment of soft toys. CJ hugs and cuddles them, making snuggly noises all the while. Sam puts them into a migration.