Artistic License

As if a comment is necessary, I think it's important to note that this is (ironically) a Dallas Cowboy who just made a touchdown...I would say from personal perspective an earlier era - oh, 1990's. 
AND since I forgot to grab the ACTUAL picture from the restaurant table (shame), this is the last...so many puns.

Baseball

So, Preston is playing little league. At least for now - "it's boring." Dad and I are PRAYING he stays in it, because he's SO FUNNY.

He spent one entire game sliding to every. single. base. All of them. Whether the ball was close or not. I guess he decided that he wasn't so great at sliding - that, or it hurt - because he hasn't slid in a while.

We've spent the entire season telling him to watch the ball. Even when it's not near you, watch the ball. A week ago, he learned WHY - the hard way. Yes, his outfielder threw the ball to the infield. Preston was covering second, but not watching. *thwack* Smack in the temple. He rag-dolled to the floor. I was worried, but at the same time, I know how hard his head is. After the game (he sat out the rest of it), he said, "This is why I don't want to play baseball. I do NOT LIKE GETTING HURT." -- I guess football is out.

And last Saturday, he was epic. P usually gives us a big thumbs up with a cheesey grin every time he does something good. So anytime he's batting, I always watch at first base to give him a thumbs up back. So he hit. And he ran. And he stands on base. And I'm thinking, where is my thumbs up?? And then, it happens. He throws up "the cobra" (which a quick search revealed is probably a duck, but he thinks its a cobra and we'll go with him on this one).

So, now the question is: how do we get a future Ranger to keep playing little league? Because he's good...and WAY too much fun to watch.

Preston is destined to be a short distance sprinter. The kid is FAST. Real fast. And he only has two speeds - walking or sprinting.

He ran in his school's fundraiser today, and I tried to tell him to pace himself because he needed to run as MANY laps as possible to raise the MOST money. Of course, he took off like a jet, and ran the whole lap at full speed. A few laps later, I was walking with him and he said, "Mom, did you see me take off on the first lap?" *cheesey grin*

"Yes, I did. You were SO fast."

*serious face* "I know. My heart burst. When I run that fast, my heart bursts. It really does."

Recriprocating the most serious face I can muster, "It does? Wow. How are you even alive?"

"It's just a runner thing."

And with that, he takes off running. 19 laps in 30 minutes - almost 2.5 miles. Kudos, kiddo...it's DEFINTELY a runner thing.

Cheaterleaders

It's been a long time since I posted, so I'm going to try and update with the stories I keep telling myself over and over so I'll remember to post them.

Preston and Albert were talking over dinner last night. Since Preston is "about to be 5" he thinks he's grown, and has decided he wants to play football. Albert and him were going to practice outside, and they were talking about...well, I wasn't really listening when Preston looked at me across the room and said, "And mom, YOU can be the cheaterleader!"

Monster Trucks and Cheaters

I lied. I posted nothing funny over the weekend, but that's only because P has been a little slow on the funny factor. Until Sunday...

My stepdaughter came over Sunday to visit, and Preston absolutely adores her. They were outside playing with Albert, when someone got the idea to race monster trucks down the driveway. I'm not sure whose idea it was, it could just as easily have been Albert's as Prestons, but it was a good idea and P has PLENTY of monster trucks to go around.

So they are outside, lining up their trucks at the top of the hill, and letting them roll down in a race. (It was actually quite entertaining, and reminded me of racing hermit crabs from a vacation to Jamaica when I was younger.) I get the bright idea to grab the checkered flag, and play referee/announcer. We're having a good ole time, when Albert disappears inside and comes out with this giant monster truck. Obviously, it's going to win every time...the kids are playing with Hot Wheels sized trucks.

They run a few races, and at first it's funny that the big one keeps winning. Then, the kids start getting frustrated that no one can beat Albert's truck, and begin complaining that the cheater truck keeps winning. As the referee/announcer, I disqualify the big one from racing and push it to the side.

They run a couple more races with the little ones, when Preston heads down the hill to retrieve his trucks, and I see it. That lustful side glance at the big one; a sure fire win, while his truck has been turning every direction but DOWN the hill the last couple races.

He grabs the big truck and looks dead at his sister and dad and says, "I'm going to be the cheater."

He spent the next morning ride telling me about how he was the cheater, and he had the "cheatist" truck. I suppose we should have a conversation about cheating BEFORE he starts team sports...

Strangers

(Story courtesy of Preston's Tia Rosanna)

We left my brother in law's surprise birthday party the other day, and Preston decided he wanted to ride with his cousins, since we were going to their house for a bit anyway. As they were driving past the Ballpark, the conversation went something like this:

P: Tia Rosanne, me and my mom and my dad and me, we're going to go there to see the Strangers play.

R: Really? You're going to see the Strangers play?

P: Yeah, they play like this (swings arms like he's swinging a bat) and me and my mom and my dad and me are going to go watch them.

R: Wow, that sounds like fun. Can I come with you to see the Strangers?

P: (very serious) Do you have GPS?

R: Do I have to have a GPS to go with you?

P: My mom's GPS got stolen out of her car. Do you have one?

R: Yes. Does that mean I can go with you to see the Strangers?

P: (thinking) I guess. Gunnar, [his aunt] Steph's dog, he stole my mom's GPS. He's bad.

[January 18, 2009]