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.

Boulders...

Preston is obsessed with sharp things on his body. Nails. Hair. His vampire teeth.

This morning I left my little wallet with a mirror in it on the table. He found it during breakfast and spent most of breakfast time staring at his vampire teeth to make sure they were still sharp.

"Mom, guess what? I'm not chewing with my boulders, you know why? I'm chewing with my vampire teeth."

Some words are just too cute to correct. I just might be the parent of a 12 year old that still rides the "elligator", or visits the "jagwaters" at the zoo.

Camp is more fun than work

Preston is attending camp this summer at one of the recreation centers. It's been great so far. This morning, Preston decided to point out how much BETTER camp was, than work.
"Mom, what do you do at work?" Funny you should comment how much better it is, when you have no idea what I do all day..."work!" I respond. Heavy sigh, "I know you work, but what KIND of work?" I explain that I do accounting, which means I make sure all the money and numbers are right. "How much money do you have?" -- the "in the millions" response got a jaw-drop, and the conversation is over.

As we're gathering up stuff, I ask him if he eats lunch on swim days at camp, or at the pool. He says he's already told me, so I admit I've forgotten the answer. So he says,
"At camp, Mom. We eat at CAMP. At camp. At camp. At camp. At camp."
"Ok! I get it," I respond, to which he retorts that he doesn't want me to forget again. As we're headed out the door he says,
"Mom, can you please bend down." I do, and he begins banging the side of my head (softly enough) saying, "get the numbers out. get the numbers out."
"What was that for!"
"I want you to get the numbers out so you won't forget that I eat lunch AT CAMP!"

Oy.

Public Education

I took Preston to Half-Priced books Monday. The reason is - well, we bribed him for the chance at a funny video. The video was worth $5...I figure it'll be priceless in about 10 years.

Anyhow, prior to the excursion, I steel myself for what this will be - a long, drawn-out process of book choosing because "they do not have enough books," when in actuality they have too many. We get there, and the store is rearranged, so he spends 5 minutes insisting we're not in the kids section (surrounded by Curious George and dino books), while I try to get him to understand the meaning of "half-pint books" on the sign. Thank you, Half-Priced Books for your charm and wit...however, it does not help when pacifiying a 5 year old.

Anyway, I finally learn that Preston "isn't into fiction" because "it's just not his thing." As he sits on the floor perusing the dino books, in NON-fiction, he casually comments, "I am NOT getting that Presidents book." -- huh? Looking around I realize we're also near the history books, which he is normally very interested in, so I ask why. "Because I do NOT like Presidents." -- Why? "Because they are boring and they talk too much."

So, this is what you get when you force kindergardeners to watch the State of the Union address. Just sayin'.

Oh man...

When I came on to blog the funny thing P did this morning, I didn't realize it's been almost a year since the last time I posted any of his funnies. This blog isn't going to work the way I want it if I don't get (and stay) on the ball.

I'll do better. Ish.

We bought Preston an alarm clock on Sunday. It was at his request, even though I've been considering the idea for a while. Sunday night, his last words before I closed his door were, "I can't WAIT for my alarm at 7 in the morning." My last thoughts were, "Yeah, we'll see how long THAT lasts."

Preston unplugged and threw his alarm clock on the couch this morning. Apparently, he doesn't want it anymore.