Friday, November 28, 2008

The moment has arrived.

I just heard The Boy say, "Dad, can we watch football?"

And there's some discussion of which team has won the most games, have they won more than the Huskies, and could this college team beat our poor Seahawks.

Although right now I hear him doing some annoying play with his old Sesame Street cash register, pushing the keys over and over so it says, "seven, sev, sev, seven, sssssss, seven, sev, sev, seven."

I figured with such a sports fan for a father, he would eventually take an interest. He's always loved to throw balls, and "buh-ball" for basketball was his first big word. Last spring it was baseball, and he watched a little more of a few Mariners games than before. Then during soccer season, he was always asking to go outside and kick the ball, but not so much for watching soccer on tv.

But one day I called while I was out, and they were poring over the stats page in the newspaper, and according to The Boy, "figuring out who were the worst players on the Seahawks." He's been playing football at recess with his friends, and has spent a few evenings outside throwing the ball with Daddy.

But this is what I've been dreaming about... That one day, they might say, "Mom, shhhh and leave us alone. We're watching football."

And then I'll have three hours to myself.

Now to work on Bitty Girl's love of football. Maybe a purple and pink football in her stocking??

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