Football season is upon us once again. Yay.
Forgive me for my lack of enthusiasm, but I am not a fan. Football season means I cannot make plans with my husband on Sundays unless there is a television involved somewhere. It means he will spend countless hours sitting at the laptop looking at his fantasy football scores. It means the TV will constantly be on ESPN for the next few months, playing either current games or classic ones from the days we were in elementary school.
This year, Dylan has also been infected by the football bug.
All day long, he walks around with a toy football under his arm, and when he throws it he screams, “Like the Bears!”
If I ask him what color balloons he wants as a reward for making poop in the potty, he answers “Blue and orange, like Chicago Bears!”
In the mornings, when we are getting ready for school and I turn on the TV so he can be still long enough for me to change him into his school clothes, he refuses to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and instead cries, “I want football!”
One of his favorite games in the entire world – which he wants to play over and over again – is “Tackle”
Bill is one proud papa. I am terrified that the boy will want to be on a football team when he is older.
You may have noticed from my recent post regarding our emergency room visit that I am a bit of a worrier when it comes to my child’s well being. All right, maybe a BIG worrier might be a better description. Maybe it’s because it took us so long to get him, or maybe it’s because I’m a worrier by nature, but I tend to want to steer my boy clear of situations where he might potentially get injured.
Of course, he is one of the most rough-and-tumble boys I have ever seen in my life. And of course, he is well on his way to becoming an football fanatic like his cousin Jack.
Despite my fears, I have to admit, I love watching Bill and Dylan enjoying the sport together, whether it be in front of the TV or playing outside in the backyard. My heart melts when I hear Dylan trying to provide commentary on the game to Bill (“Daddy, he tackled!” or “Daddy, he’s OK”) or when I see the proud glint on Bill’s eyes when Dylan screams “Go Bears!”
I can just imagine them spending countless of moments like these as Dylan grows up, trading statistics and arguing over which is the best team. I can almost picture them playing a game of football out in the backyard with the other boys in the family. I may not be a football fan, but I can see how Dylan’s enthusiasm for it has brought him and Bill yet closer together.
For that, I love the sport.