Its Football Time

Today is my son’s first football game. Well, it’s not technically his first, since his team has been playing bowl games and scrimmages with other teams for the last couple of weeks. But in his mind, based on the team schedule, tonight is his first official game.

I grew up in football country. It was a small town, but football was a way of life. The only thing that was more important than football was church. And in some instances, a couple of churches set their mid-week services around football practice. You were either in football, or you were not.

I was not. I wasn’t that big in high school, and learned long before getting there that I was gifted in music. In particular, I figured out I was pretty good playing drums. And as a dad, I just figured that was where my son would progress. I bought a second drum set last year so he could play. Unbeknownst to me, he held a very strong desire to play football. I knew he enjoyed it. He liked watching it with me, but I never knew he wanted to play it as much as he does. But the truth be known, deep down inside of me I knew this was coming….

A few months back I said something to the effect of,”you are too small to play. You will get hurt. Blah blah blah. Well, when one of the coaches here in Knoxville heard that story (directly from David…), he wasn’t too thrilled. He started naming off all kinds of guys in the NFL with a height less than 5’8”. When I got home, you can imagine David letting me have it…. Make a long story short; he is now a starting Safety and backup running back for his team. He is also the fastest member of the team when they do the speed drills. He has a lot to learn, but it is his first year, and he is loving it. I am definitely a proud dad.

* Superpowers

I debated on the title for this post - I wanted to do the quirky quote title since it is related to a statement by my son - but I decided not to. This is contrary to other posts that have little to do with a quote yet get labeled as such. Such is the joy of blogging - I can do whatever I want and since my readership is limited no one will really care.

A few days ago my son and I were watching the first Fantastic Four movie. He has never seen the movie in its entirety or the beginning part at all. This sitting only fixed the beginning part - we still didn't watch the whole thing. Anyway... the beginning of this movie really tries to explain the scientific way that these ordinary folks become superheroes. This was an interesting topic for the seven year old on the couch. He asked lots of questions and I very carefully explain that the writers of the story made up this way of becoming a super hero. They (meaning the writers) said that some electricity in space "shocked" the actors and it changed their cells so that they would do something they had never done before. We have had previous discussions of electricity (particularly as it related to not touching the electric fence at the farm) as well as cells in our bodies. I thought my explanation of the events in the movie was very clear and I was proud of being able to translate the information into his level of understanding. In the midst of my pride I concluded this train of thought with ...

"Because you know that no one really has super powers like in the story, right?"

"I do"

Total failure of the very elaborate explanation - apparently people do have super powers, particularly my son, and I had it all wrong.

(For those interested - after I got over myself and my attempts to logically explain movie magic I asked what the super powers were ... "I can stick to stuff" and he promptly walked over to the hall and scaled his way to the ceiling with a move many of us have seen on Ninja Warrior - "Mom - you can walk under me now!!!" - Interestingly enough the super power does not extend to getting down from the ceiling. Even superheroes need their moms to swoop in and get them out of a jam every now and then)

* Quirky Quotes

Although this post has the title indicating it has what I would consider a cool kid quote - the quote is at the very end - so hang with me for a few minutes.

Instead of spending our Saturday the way we usually do, with multiple questions of "what are we doing today?", recycling, trips to Lowe's or Home Depot, and other random home tasks such as emptying the shoe basket or cleaning out my son's closet (again!!!) we packed the kids up and headed to the Smokies. We embarked on a rather ambitious hike to a waterfall with a 5 mile round trip distance. We called it an adventure and used up our entire day. At the end of another Saturday I can say we did not waste it in trivial tasks. These are some of the things we discovered on our trip.

• A first grade boy can hike for five miles up and down (six times) all by himself without being carried, while a 3 year old girl will require carrying between the the 3.5 to 4.5 miles points during which she will get a power nap and become recharged and very hungry.
• A centipede in the wild is super cool. We got to talk about exoskeletons and that some bugs other than bees and spiders do bite and sting. And on that note....
• Horseflies are apparently territorial and prone to chase and attack the oldest female member of the hiking party. I walked through this territory on the way to the falls and found the horsefly annoyingly persistent until we finally walked out of an invisible barrier. On the way back it landed on my hiking pants and offered us an opportunity to show our son how it would try to bite you(we could actually see its pointed evil little mouth(?) trying repeatedly to get something from the fabric methodically moving around until shaken off) After our lesson it persisted in chasing only me for quite some time, even when I ran (to the amusement of many I am sure). It finally did get one bite THROUGH MY SHIRT before I passed the invisible border again. Judah suggested I smelt good but David tested my arm and said not so much.
• Snake skins in the wild are even cooler than centipedes.
• Boys, big and little, always need to go potty on a hike of five miles, little 3 year old girls need to go twice. Older adult females can just hold it.
• Leaves in the hands of little boys can feel startlingly like bugs on your neck when unexpected.
• When mom squeals once it only reinforces the action and she will be pestered with leaves for the remainder of the hike.
• Rocks on the path are fascinating and need only some sticks and twine to become spears. Luckily we did not pack any twine.
• Without ready twine rocks will be placed in dad's backpack to be taken home.
• Despite all the fascinating things we saw and did what a small boy will remmeber most is "running for our lives" from a horsefly.
• Hiking the day away is a much better use of a Saturday than watching TV.

Now for the quote...........During this hike my son turns to me and shows me a spit bubble he has created and is holding in his mouth. I say "Nice" and he proceeds to tell me he can also make one with snot. "No thank you" I say. After several more enticing comments in favor of the snot bubble I again say

"No"

"Why not?"

"Because that is yuck"

(Pause) "Yuck is goooooooooood"

Yuck.

* Must Love Bugs

In honor of my favorite seven year old I would like to comment on one of the biggest changes in my life since his arrival.........the willing examination of bugs. I have never liked bugs, they are categorically filthy and disgusting creatures. I understand their function in this world and I am sure that God knew what He was doing when they were created, however I avoid them whenever possible. I particularly do not like to hear the squishing and exoskeleton breaking sound you get when they are stepped or mashed in a paper towel. My handling of bugs is generally by releasing them back "into the wild" although I prefer to shout to Judah to handle the issue if he is available. I do not feel like I am reversing the progress of womanhood by doing this. I am capable of handling it myself, I am choosing not to and delegating to a more willing person.

Despite this abhorrence of bugs I find myself stopping to examine many creepy things. When I started bug examination my primary motivation was that I did not want to instill in my son a fear as a small child, just as I attempt to remain calm during storms and when getting on airplanes. I have no desire for my children to labor under my stress. In efforts to appear as though bugs were "no big deal" I would calmly remark on the types of bugs we encountered when my son was a toddler........ look an ant! (or a spider, or a caterpillar, or a beetle, etc).

In classic boy fashion I no longer need to point out bugs, my son will gladly point them out to me. My new task is to look interested and attempt to answer the many questions he has regarding name and function. I believe my son has learned that bugs belong outside and one of his favorite days is the Terminix day when a very helpful man named John comes to rid my home of bugs. My son finds this activity fascinating and has been known to follow him around jabbing in the dirt to help kill bugs. We have bug books, bug flash cards, and little plastic bugs in abundance. I squelch the inner "yuck" and calmly examine the creature crawling on the deck when my son comes running. I hope one day he realizes what an effort that is for me and that my bug examination is a way to see how much I love him. To parent a seven year old boy you MUST LOVE BUGS.

(A side note on this technique - it has not been as effective on my daughter who still runs screaming from her bug wielding brother.)

Boys and Trucks

Michelle and I spent Friday and Saturday cleaning out the garage. It seems simple enough, however, it was actually quite daunting. I had been putting it off for about a month now, but I finally got the "its getting done" look this week. The major problem was the fact that I had my dad's 1988 F150, LONG bed in the garage. It had been in there long enough that we just basically started using the bed of the truck as storage space as well. I think the turning point was when I layed something on the hood, and said, "that's temporary".

Friday, my best friend and I went to a junkyard to retrieve a column for the truck. This was a necessary part, as I couldn't start the truck, therefore, not able to move the truck out of the garage that needed to be cleaned. Once we got to the junkyard, I was told that the column I needed was not actually on the shelf, but still in the truck out on the yard. For those of you who have never been to a junkyard, its not a place you go to immidiately after work, on a Friday, at 5pm. These guys have things to do. Enough said. I think the only reason they even talked to me was the fact that I was looking for a part for a 1988 F150. This is considered a "good year", especially since it has a V8.

On the way home, I started thinking about how in the world I was going to get the truck out of the garage. I knew that the cleaning was going to be done, and that Michelle was planning on doing it, whether the truck was in there or not. I got visions (nightmares) of me pushing that truck out of the garage, just so we could clean, then push it back in. Ouch.

Once home, I headed straight out to the garage. I climbed into the truck, and that is when the passenger door opened up. In crawled my oldest.
"Dad, whatcha doin'?"
"Trying to start the truck."
"Why?"
"So we can clean out the garage."
"What?"
"Your mom says the garage needs to be cleaned out, and that includes getting the truck out of the garage."
"What's wrong with the truck?"
"It won't start."
"Why?"
(sigh) "Because I drilled the ignition switch out of the column."
"Why did you do that?"
(Silent grown) "Its a long story. I just need to figure out how to get it started, that's all."
"How are you going to do that?"
"I am not sure yet."
About that time an idea hit me, and I reached down and pushed on the rod that engages that starter, and started the truck. My son got so excited he started jumping up and down on the seat laughing. Thank you God. I am the provider for family. I save the day. Once again, dad can do anything. My son climbs out of the truck, and heads inside, proclaiming to all that dad has started the truck. How long does this last? By the way: what is it about boys and trucks?

If you had come over to the house on Saturday, you would have seen the truck in the driveway, my son in the bed "cleening it out", me trying to find room for tools, Michelle sweeping, and my little girl throwing things away. We didn't go to Chuckie Cheese. I didn't go bike riding. Michelle didn't scrap book. The kids didn't watch cartoons. We just cleaned the garage. For some reason, we were all happy.

Sunday, I decided it was time to go get the TV. This is yet another long story, but it is still relevant. I had a teen from church go with me to help carry the TV and other essentials of the home theater system. I am getting in the truck, when I look back, and see my son standing at the door. I crank the truck, and wave at him to come on. He doesn't even wait to put his shoes on. Again, what is it about boys and trucks?

This morning, I am in the bathroom getting dressed when the door opens. In walks my son.
"You driving the truck to work today?"
"Not today."
"Why not?"
"No reason."
"Can we drive it tonight?"
"Why?"
"No reason."

What is it about boys and trucks?