Now...it's personal

This past weekend, Booper had his first "soccer practice" with his new team in the local micro soccer league. He was anticipating it greatly. Turns out, Veruca is also on the team, though this did not keep Booper from enjoying himself greatly. The coach is a mom we know well, assisted by her husband. They are parents to two gorgeous Hapa girls that Booper knows from preschool. The younger one is a rascal, full of energy and spirit. She has, however, developed the unfortunate habit of calling kids "dooshy." Say it out loud. Not good. Where she got this, I don't know, but we are putting the serious kabosh on it at our house. Veruca's Dad (VD) is also an assistant coach. Booper likes him a lot (??) and I noticed him spontaneously hug VD on more than one occasion.

That was all well and good until VD crossed the line. As we were packing up to go, Booper revealed that we were heading home to watch the Yankees vs. Red Sox on the TiVo. VD, who is a native Californian, told Booper that he should absolutely root for the Sox. Clearly, the man does not have an allegiance to the Sox, he just wants to annoy me. He was filling my son with all kinds of crazy ideas, such that, when we returned home, Booper was cheering for the Sox for the first 3 innings. He kept saying to me, "Mom...is it okay for me to cheer for the Sox? I can choose any team I want, right? The Giants aren't playing, so I am cheering for the Red Sox."

I know, I know. He can pick his own team, if he decides he really likes a team. Heck, my Dad was a Dodgers fan. Brooklyn Dodgers. But they moved away and broke his heart, so he was forced to choose another home team for us, and he picked the Yankees. He sometimes held his nose to do it, but he did it just the same. That's how baseball works. It's inherited. So I fully expect him to like the Giants, being an SF kid and all. I can work with that. But I absolutely will not tolerate this indiscriminate cheering for the Red Sox. While you're living in my house--the house that Ruth built--you will follow my rules.

I can't tell you how disturbing it was to watch my son's gorgeous, pure lips form the words, "Go Sox!" I imagine this is how it will feel the first time I hear him use the F word (and I don't mean fart.) I had to walk away. This may sound crazy to those of you who do not have a passion for any sports team in particular, but it was absolutely driving me ape shit. So much so, that I turned off the game and watched it after the boys were in bed. (The Yankees won, heh heh heh.) Now VD is on my list. It's bad enough that you are raising an ill-mannered and snotty little princess, but don't fuck with my family traditions. We are New York baseball fans in my house. And while my husband and I may forever disagree on the relative merits of the Mets or the Yankees, there is one thing upon which we always agree: We hate the Red Sox. Sometimes, just to keep in shape, we hate the Celtics and the Patriots, too.

In an effort to expel the bad taste of that experience, we are showcasing the Caboose and his new Karaoke machine. This was a gift from his Harabuji. It's pretty popular with all of us, though. Last night, I was throwing a little BP in the yard with the boys, and Daddy used it to "announce" the batters as we approached the plate.

http://www.youtube.com/v/w1Jaw9cqBBU

Justice

Based on the comments from my previous post, it sounds like a lot of you have experience with this particular breed of girl: The Veruca. I have been learning a lot these past few weeks about this sub-species, and I am proud to report that sometimes karmic justice is swift.

Booper, Veruca, and another little girl from their class have been moved up to the Pre-K program along with a handful of other kids from campuses around the city. In September, a few more of their classmates will make the switch. Booper was anticipating the move greatly and has taken to it exceedingly well. This school, for one thing, has a rooftop playground, which they get to use twice a day. It is also larger with more areas to explore. A couple days before starting, he told me, "I am looking forward to going to the XXXX class because I know I'm going to make new friends there, and my new friends won't tease me." Amen to that.

And boy, was he right! He has made a passel of new friends and left Veruca in his dust. I have heard from her parents that she is not doing so well with the transition. For one thing, she still sucks her thumb, and in this class there is a rule that one must wash hands after sucking your thumb. (I imagine the idea is to make it so inconvenient that eventually the behavior is extinguished.) For another, she is now in a class with a lot of kids who don't know her from a hole in the ground, and they are not interested in listening to her crap. Consequently, she is not the Queen B she once was. oh boo hoo hoo.

Of course, I know it could be worse. A dear friend put her son in summer camp until he starts kindergarten this fall (in a Japanese bilingual program at another public school.) Her son was shoved into a locker by another boy--one he has known for years--and was left there to suffer. He was terrified, of course, and eventually another child fetched a counselor and he was freed. These are 5 year old boys, mind you. Not teenagers. When the camp director approached the shover's parents to discuss the matter, they deflected all responsibility and made it seem that my friend's son had brought it upon himself. Sheesh. Kindergarten is going to be rough for that kid if this is how he's behaving now.

In other exciting news, Booper has developed a taste for salad. Any kind of leafy greens will do, with celery, and some dressing. Yesterday I gave him a bowl of baby spinach and he gobbled it up. I thought I died and went to heaven. Heaven being the place where the Caboose is lying in that header photo up top.