In celebration of The BYU's massacre of the Bruins on Saturday, Thatcher and I spent some much needed boy time together this afternoon re-enacting the game outside. I say much needed because I find him all too frequently with lipgloss in hand or adorned with necklaces upon returning home from work. I attribute this to the fact that he is imprisoned at home with 3 girls (likely soon to be four knowing our family penchant for daughters) who like nothing better than to comb hair and play princess; and residency has made for long hours away. He has an extensive collection of toy cars which he loves. I thought some good old replicas of American Hot Rods made in China would spur his boyish side, but once again the girls in the home have taken this away from me. Now instead of races and crashes he will frequently hold up his cars and make them talk to me- "Hi! What's your name? I'm race car. Let's go shopping at the store."
My first attempt at reversing the trend was shadow boxing and play boxing with dad. This was a lot of fun for a few days until we noticed cries of "Mom, Thatcher hit me" start to escalate throughout the week. Alas, that game has ended due to 'tender feelings' . . . at least while Mom is watching :)
So I recently bought him a NERF football. He loves carrying it around and so far I have not seen it dressed in doll's clothes. Today I tried to teach him the finer points of football. I have seldom had as much fun as watching him put his own spin on the game.
Snapping the ball:
I bent down to show him how to snap the ball, yelled hike and handed it to him between my legs. Then I told him to try. He proceeded to put the ball between his legs, give it to me, then turn around said "Hi Ball!" and wave hello. He got it right the second time.
Tackling:
I spent a lot of time chasing him with the ball, because he didn't want to give it up, interspersed with gentle tackles. The first time I took the ball from him and began to run I told him it was his turn to tackle me. He ran up behind me, started wiggling his fingers on my leg and said "Tickle, Tickle, Tickle". I gently reminded him that it was Tackle not Tickle at which point he grabbed my leg and tried to bite me. In my mind I thought, what have I done? He is going to grow up to be a dirty Ute." He got it right the third time and I knew that he learned fast. I felt reassured that the Y would take him after all.
Touchdowns and "Thank you"s
We practiced running to the end zone a lot. Every time I told him to get a touchdown he would run to the end of the yard and then put his hands on the ground. I couldn't figure out what he was doing at first, and then I realized he was "touching down" on the ground. I tried a different tact and taught him to signal for a touchdown when he finished running. He tried again, made the 'endzone', and threw his hands up in the air like the Cougar he is. Then I asked him, "Now what do you say?" He thought for a moment and shouted "Thank You!". It was then that I knew he could play for Coach Mendenhall- he was definitely a character player- all gratitude and no attitude.