Funny Guy Friday... Musings from my funny hubby... From the mouths of babes...

     Kids say the darndest things. And they're are all a bunch of brats.  
     My brother runs a baseball camp, and he opens it up to any kid that won't cry when his mommy drives off. This sole criteria, I felt, eliminated my youngest son from consideration.
     He loves his mommy way more than he should (who wouldn't love the person that sets up an art studio for you in the living room, and then marvels at EVERY Picaso that you draw), and he has not shown much interest in sports. He participated in clinic basketball, but much of the time he was Kung Fu fighting as the game went on around him, or singing into his water bottle while sitting on the bench.
     Not that I don't try to get him to play. When he tires of drawing a masterpiece, he will occasionally wander out to play with me and his brother. When he does, I show him how to get in a fielding position, how to move his feet, how to catch with two hands, how to hold a bat, how to swing a bat, how to throw, etc. etc.. The scouting report on him is decent speed, can swing a bat pretty well, below average arm, not much with the glove and not dedicated to his craft... by craft, I mean baseball, not arts and crafts... those two things he loves.
     I asked him the night before if he would be interested in going to baseball camp the next morning, and surprisingly, he did not immediately reject my proposal. When he woke up the next morning,  both Cheryl and I were even more surprised when he said he wanted to go to baseball camp.
     Cheryl even presented him with these two options... "You can stay home with me and we will go to the pool, hang out and draw, snuggle and have fun all day... or you can go to baseball camp, where it will be all day out in the hot sun with kids you don't know playing a game that you really don't care for."
     Okay, I may be exaggerating a bit, but not by much. Despite the lopsided presentation by my wife, my little man rejected the wily ways of his mother, and said he wanted to go to camp! Woo hoo... major break through!
    All day, I could think of only one thing, and that was how he would do at baseball camp. Okay, I also thought about how much crap my brother was going to give me at Thanksgiving if my kid cried and left with his mommy. I mean, Oh yeah... well your kids can't draw! isn't exactly the greatest come back, but it was all I could think of. Fortunately, I thought, I have until November to come up with something better.
    Anyway, when I burst through the door at the end of the day, I got another great surprise as my boy proclaimed that his first day of camp "was the best day ever---but kind of long." This begged the question... if it was the best day ever... why wouldn't you want it to last forever?... but I was too happy to make this inquiry.
     My man loved camp, and I was happy thinking that this will be the break through I have been looking for to pry him away from his artistic mother. I could now pass on my love of baseball to my youngest son.
     As we talked about the day, he asked if Uncle Jeff was older than I. I told him that he was, in fact, two years older, and I asked him why he asked. He then said, and I quote, "because now I can learn the right way to play from someone who is older and knows more than you." Why, you stinking little brat!
    This comes on the heels of another kid questioning my coaching abilities. Our older son is playing on an All Star team, and I am not one of the coaches, but I do go to practices and throw BP, or work with the infielders.
     One of the coaches of the team did ask me to talk to his son about a few things, and I found an opportune time when he was sitting alone in the dugout. He is a very nice young man, and a very talented player. I started to talk to him about his responsibilities as one of the better players, and how he had to be a leader on the team... and we had a very good conversation.
     At the conclusion of our conversation he asked if I were going to be in the dugout for the upcoming tournament, and I advised that I would not. He then said, "Why is that? Is it because you are not qualified to coach?" Why, you stinking little brat.
     I am thinking about giving up coaching... perhaps I can take up art.