My kid, the Boy, is a jock. He may be a nerdy, mathlete jock with an affinity for yo-yos, rubik’s cubes, MasterChef and Project Runway, but he’s every bit an athlete. You can smell it on him. These days, about to go to high school, you can LITERALLY smell it on him.
When people ask what’s his favorite sport, we tell them he’s a dog. Just throw him a ball, any ball, and that’s his favorite. Lacrosse, soccer, football, baseball. Doesn’t really matter. Golf. Basketball. Frisbees too. He’ll chase them and catch them and do it over and over and over again.
Woof.
It’s tough to be the only boy in a house full of sisters, with girl cousins and girls in the neighborhood and nothing but girls, girls, girls hardwired in his brain. Too young to get started himself, he was dragged to swim meets, basketball games, gymnastic meets, softball and soccer games. Even girls motorcross. All girls, all the time.
I remember back when he was just a little guy, running out during half-time of his big sister’s parks ‘n rec basketball team and heaving the basketball with all his might. The crowd would cheer. He had a little Kobe Bryant jersey, and would sing: They’re playing Bas-ket-ball …. with his hair braided like Lil Bow-Wow in Like Mike.
One time he ran into the stands after his half-time show at his big sister’s 3rd grade girls basketball team, the Fluffy Purple People Eaters, breathless: “Mom-mom-mom-mom.” He clearly had something to say, before climbing on my lap.
He declared with conviction: “Wisten to me. WISTEN” pant-pant-pant “When I grow up” pant-pant-pant “and I get a ba-gina” pant-pant “I’m gonna pway bas-ket-ball just wike my sis-tah.”
“Aw, honey. You’re not getting a ba-gina. Not ever. You have a penis; no VAgina now or when you grow up. Never gonna happen. Sure, you can play basketball, but no vagina for you, but good news! You don’t even need a VAgina to play basketball.”
Rather attractive husband was not amused.
“Kate: do NOT crush his dreams. Don’t worry dude, you’ll get a vagina – someday, but you don’t need one to play hoops.”
“Geesh, Kate. Give the kid some hope,” rather attractive dad growled, before turning back to the boy and swinging him high in the sky.
“You are awesome, dude, those were some great shots! You’re gonna be a great hoops player when you grow up, Boy. And not to worry, you’ll get plenty of vagina. Do not worry one bit about that.”
This was such a funny story way back then in that dusty middle school gym, but fast-forward a decade or so, to teenage daughters and a boy headed to high school, and rather attractive husband ain’t laughing quite so loud now.
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hee hee hee!
hoping he doesn’t read this … for a long, long, long time. But heck, i waited a decade to tell it, so what’s the problem?
Love the POV he has of girls’ capabilities, gonna pay off– smelly or not, HS here he comes!
If my Father were alive today and had found this with me, I can only imagine how an English teacher would have carved up and dissected this reference to smell. He would have considered it an aroma, a rite of passage, something to be proud of, shared, and never forgotten.
Hey, I’m living it also.
I may just be a kid, and I know you don’t know me, but I just wanted to say thank you for writing everything that you have written, it has helped me a lot since Sandy Hook, It’s given me something to read, both from before and after, something to look forward to reading, There hasn’t been much to look forward to since it happened, but you gave me something to look forward to, something to heal to 🙂 Thank you.
hey gracie, i may just be a grown up, but you do know me, at least the writer me. And I just want to say thank you for reading. I think it’s important to tell our stories, because then more people connect to us and feel they know us — even if just a little bit. You of course REALLY know (the good, the bad, the sad and the funny), and I’m sure you know lots of the people and places I describe. I’m glad they make you feel a little bit better; reading your comment sure did make me feel a lot bit better. hugs to you girl.
They help more than you could imagine..well…maybe not more than you can imagine, you are a writer after all and you do live here. I do know a lot of the places you write about, and it’s fun to be able to picture them exactly while reading about them, I hope you keep writing because I know I’ll never stop reading, hugs back! (and yet another smile achieved just by reading something you wrote 🙂 )