We’ve been having a nice start to spring here and you’ve been wanting to play non-stop in the backyard during these longer days. We’ve been playing a lot of soccer. I taught you how to flick the ball up to start juggling and you’re getting the hang of it. I spent what seemed like hours (but likely just minutes at a time) juggling a soccer ball in the street as a kid, motivated to impress my Dad. Don’t worry about impressing me. I’m just glad you want to play with me after school.
You’ve also wanted to play golf. Before you broke a window, your Mom was smart enough to buy a set of foam golf balls, which I hit more than you do. For some reason you prefer for me to chip the ball for you to catch. I think Mom prefers me golfing too because I make fewer divots. She has been working hard at recovering the lawn so we should our best keeping the grass we have in the ground.
As things go in first grade, you’ve been telling me when you’ve heard “bad words,” which range from “hell” to really bad four letter words. Earlier today when we were golfing you asked me what the word is when you remove “g” and “r” from “grass.” Obviously your spelling is improving with your casual vocabulary.
The worst word you really say is “boring.” When you are mad, angry, or disappointed, you say, “That’s boring” or “You’re boring” like it’s your personal f-bomb. It’s really effective, to your credit. Like with any communications, it’s not so much about the diction but the delivery. When you say “boring” things are the worst, rock-bottom for you. Which is to say that you’re usually hungry and whatever was boring becomes interesting or even awesome after a snack.
Thankfully, we stray from anything boring during our playtime in the backyard after school, and I’m smart enough to know that dinner is always just around the corner in case things take a turn.
Love,
Dad