Our second-grader is playing Little League baseball, and league rules now require/suggest that the kids wear cups. Not just catchers, like when I was a kid, but everyone. (Who knows, if trial lawyers and insurers have their way, in 2050 all kids will play all team sports in the then-modern day version of chain-mail armor). Anyway. . .
We didn't get a chance to get my son his before his first practice, which was last night. I had suggested that my wife stop by a sporting goods store yesterday to pick one up for my son, but she demurred. That, she advised, was something for a dad to do for his son.
Before practice, the head coach's son was at our house for dinner. He's a bright kid, and he started talking about the fact that he has a cup. Whereupon, my wife asked the following question: "Did you get the cup at Dick's?"
My son's friend and my son started giggling and then burst out into belly-like laughter. The sophomoric humor (okay, it's actually grade-school humor) wasn't lost on her. And, of course, when he returned from practice, the first thing my son wanted to tell me wasn't about his teammates, his hitting or fielding, but about the funny thing that happened at dinner.
Second grade boys and their humor. I suppose that if the local Sports Authority were closer to us than Dick's, dinner last night at my house just wouldn't have been the same.
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