A Pfaffy kind of day

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Tod was in town this weekend for Homecoming. It was good to see him. When he is home he schedules kicking sessions with his coach. We had one Sunday morning at 9:00, so I took Cole, Reed and Tod out to Grapevine.

As is always the case when we are away from home, Reed announced he had to use the bathroom. Tod’s coach, Scott, said, just go over by that tree, there are no open restrooms around here. Reed had to go, so I did that, but I went back and told Scott I was reluctant to do it. We had done that about a week before at a park and thought nothing of it… until about 3 days later. I came out of the house when Kim pulled up with the kids. They all jumped out of the van and before I could say a word, Reed walked over to the big oak tree in our front yard, pulled down his drawers and “watered” the tree. I was dumbfounded. So this morning at Tod’s kicking lesson when I walked him over to the tree I kept saying, “This does not mean we pee in our yard, right Reed, right!?!”

Part of Tod’s practice today was me simulating a snap, Scott holding and Tod kicking. Giving him a little live action practice. Cole lined up like a defensive end. I snapped a couple and he just watched. Then, I toss the ball to Scott, as he makes the catch, Cole takes off out of a 3-point stance. Straight at the hold. Tod has taken his steps and catches a glimpse of Cole out of the corner of his eye as he is starting his kick. He tries to hold up a little (so he doesn't blow Cole's head off), but connects pretty cleanly while slipping and falling on his butt. Cole’s right arm is extended and he blocks the kick! He runs around like T.O. after a touchdown doing his little dance. I was cracking up. Scott shook his head and said,” I’ve never seen anything like that.” You could tell Cole’s arm hurt by the way he was holding it, but he was beaming. As we walked back to pick up the kicked balls, I told Scott that Craig has decided he wants to try punting and if he sticks with it for a couple months on his own, we may start up lessons for him. He said that would be great, then added, “I don’t even want to start with Cole, he’s going to be a linebacker or something.” “He’ll be the one to say, ‘I don’t want to be a p@#$y little kicker’.” I had to laugh because I think he’s right.

When we got home Tod was getting ready to leave and Kim came home from Wal-Mart with new socks and underwear for everyone. She made a crack about my grandpa underwear. (Good old whitey tighties or skivvies). Cole laughed and brought them in to where I was. “Dad, look at your grandpa underwear.” (Now think about what new underwear looks like.) Cole looked at them and looked me and back at the briefs…”Your privates aren’t that big.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him about genetics.

Never a dull moment.