Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Are We Sure He's Ours?

My darling husband, light of my life, is not a sports guy. He doesn't even like to play board games. He played football in highschool, but he was also the first male cheerleader at Sylmar High (Go Spartans!), and was on the dance team (he got to hang out with all those girls!) Occasionally we'll go to a baseball game in the summer, or watch a basketball game on television once in a while, but we don't need to arrange our weekends according to what sport is playing when. Plus, he likes to shop, and is good at it. He likes to go to movies, and he's a good cook (when he chooses to), and he's a good listener. Although I know on occasion, just to prove he's a guy he'll pretend not to hear what I say.

So basically we have been raising Joe-Henry in a home that is relatively sports free. I signed him up for soccer last summer, and he likes to play baseball (he can hit it down the street and has a killer arm) and football (not so much) with the neighbor kids, which means they play but aren't really "rules" oriented about it. But he's not a rabid fanatic robot child who can repeat all the stats of every sport. It's just not what he's been exposed to.

Until Sunday. I had the great idea that since Charley was working on Superbowl Sunday (which isn't a paid holiday, but it should be since everyone wants it off, except my husband), it would be a great time to hit Ikea with my sister. She hasn't been yet, and I gave her a gift certificate in July, and why not go get a slice of Swedish Sunshine on this dreary February day?

But what to do with JH? No problem, says my sis! He can hang out with her husband and son. They'll be around, watching the Superbowl. They aren't going anywhere. So we hop in the car and head on over. Sis and I wave good-bye to the boys, and we had a wonderful time shopping, child-free, but I looked at my watch after a time, and thought "Oh, no. Time to head back. He'll be watching the clock, waiting to come home."

We walk in the door, and my son, (at least he looks like the kid I left there) is GLUED to the tv. I do everything I can think of to get his attention, but cannot be heard. He is deaf, dumb and blind to me, but seems to respond to my nephew when he says "Oh MAN! That just sucks." "YEAH!" says the pod who has replaced my child "That SUCKS!" I'm finally able to pry him from his spot in front of the tv with bribes to turn it on at home. So that is how it is that I watched the Superbowl for the first time in over ten years.

Gone is the little boy who liked pink, now I have a big kid who likes Star Wars, and now this.

My son likes football.

Who knows what will happen next. Not me, that's for sure.


Anonymous said...

Uh, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say it was the PATRIOTS that inspired him to like football more than the football itself.

That's my theory.

anniemcq said...

Nope. For some reason he was rooting for the Giants. Sorry Tracey!

Kari said...

YAY! Football! Woo hoo!