I think it all started with this book:

Ryan loves his Darth Vader and Son book (let's be honest though ... we are going to have to confiscate it if we want Chris' obsession to actually give Ryan a reaction like this one ...). One of the pages has Luke and Princess Leia playing (Oops! I had to look up the correct spelling. Good thing I already have Chris locked down into this whole marriage thing), and Luke says, "I don't want a sister!" Since I was pregnant with Conor, and we didn't know if he was a boy or a girl, Ryan has always been quick to point out that Luke, the brother, is a boy and Princess Leia, the sister, is a girl. Cool.

The other day when I was initiating the battle that is nap time, Ryan picked up Chris' Xbox controller, laid down on the some pillows on the floor and moved the TV remote next to his body. He looked at me very seriously so I could assess the gravity of the reason he could not take a nap and stated, "I a boy, Mom. I a boy." 

A few hours later, after putting Conor down on his bed, I came back to where I left Ryan eating some peanuts. After seeing that he was not eating peanuts nor peanut butter, but straight butter, he turned his big, innocent, veeeery serious, brown eyes at me, "I a boy, Mom. I a boy."
I can't believe he ate butter. (He's eating a peanut in the photo, but you can see how much butter he got his fingers on).

This mess? (Which really is a severe thunderstorm watch compared to his normal twisters.
"I a boy, Mom."

His "brown horse" on the wall? 
His baldness as a baby should have been foreshadowing for our need for Mr Clean Magic Erasers.
"I a boy, Mom." 

Wearing my purse? "I a boy." Demanding to stay up later to watch sports with Chris? "I a boy." Needing to have Conor lounge uncomfortably on his lap? You guessed it. 

I guess his excuse is better than, "Because." 

So in case you didn't know, we have a boy. However, his renewed obsession to be attached to me at all times still throws some evidence toward, "You a baby, Ryan. You a baby."