Wednesday, July 23, 2008

The prince is in his second skating for hockey class. The first was over spring break (EASTER VACATION!!!!) and he didn't feel he was ready for the summer season of inline hockey. So now he's in this class each evening to prepare him for the fall season. It's awesome! While the earlier class had some high schools students working with them, this time they have a real coach. The class is made up from tiny guys (I'm guessing age 4 or 5) up to about 12. All the way from little ones who'd never skated before being towed along by grownups by a hockey stick to some kids a bit better than Jake. Not much though, because, of course, my son is the most active, agile, and cool kid out there. Ahem.

He's doing really well. They've learned (in two short days) pivot turns, skating backwards, speed skating, and stuff that I don't even know what it's called.

This is so much fun! I'm loving it. I always dreaded being the "soccer mom" because I don't really like a lot of sports. I like baseball and hockey. That's pretty much it. My stepdad grew up in Canada, and played ice hockey, so I grew up watching it, and I actually understand all the rules. Thanks to two patient ex-boyfriends, I have a good understanding of baseball, and really enjoy a live game, though I'm not crazy about watching it on TV. Soccer and football are mysteries to me. I've tried. I've read all the little cheat books for women. It just doesn't stick. They just don't make sense to me. Although there was one summer in my early 20s my girlfriend and I visited a few soccer games, JUST. BECAUSE. THE. HOT. GUYS. LOOKED. HOT. Sorry, about that - I was shallow then, okay? Give me a break.

But hockey is so much fun. It's fast. The rules are clear. And it's a great sport - they play indoors, they can play year round, and THEY WEAR A LOT OF PROTECTION! These things make a mom's heart swell.

Last night we're driving home, and discussing the upcoming season. He's got most of his equipment already, but not all. He needs a mouthguard, and a....I think it's called a cup. So, he knows what a mouthgard is - he's seen the bigger kids with them. But cup? What's that? Well, it's sort of a protective thing boys wear under their clothes... What does it protect? As I'm trying to gauge the most age-appropriate response (since his little sister is also in the car), he figures it out all on his own. His eyes grew huge. "You meant it covers my weiner?" Yes, son. "Why?" To protect it, so it doesn't get hurt." I could tell that he hadn't yet considered this monstrous possibility.

"Uh, mom?" "Yes?" "Can we get one tonight so I have it before I go back?"

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