I have always viewed our six year old son, Cabell, as pretty typical. He is energetic and ready to play any game at any time except, of course, hiding-go-seek and freeze tag. Last spring he lived for Tee-ball. At the mention of Tee-ball on a Saturday morning he will spring out of bed and dress himself in a matter of minutes. When baseball is not an option he will settle for soccer or football. Each day after school he personally invites every family member to play any sport with him. If there are no takers he can be found hurling some type of ball into the pitch back and diving for the return. I have even seen him set up bases in the back yard, circle them at full speed and slide into home just before the tag from some imaginary catcher.
I was not surprised, then, to see the gleam and smile recently when we introduced him to one of the baseball coaches for the community league big boys team. The coach shook Cabell’s hand and encouraged him to practice baseball everyday. The coach then asked Cabell if he knew the three most important things for a boy to do. Cabell indicated he had no clue, so the coach proceeded with his list.
“A boy’s got to love his mother. Do you love your mother?” He asked.
A big smile and nod of the head proved that this was no problem for Cabell.
“A boy’s got to love apple pie. Do you love apple pie?”
Now this was a big stumbling block. Poor Cab looked right distressed and, after a short soul searching, honestly admitted that he hated apple pie. The coach quickly moved to number three and asked, “But you love baseball, don’t ya?”
“Oh, yea! I love baseball,” Cab quickly replied. He and the coach parted friends with reassurances that two out of three was just great. It set me to thinking, though, about my All American kid.
It’s a fact that he doesn’t like apple pie. In fact, he doesn’t really like any dessert, but Ice Pops. We’ll be serving up smooth, silky homemade mousse au chocolate and he’ll decline favoring an Ice Pop. We’ll plan a little trip to the local Baskin Robbins for a scoop of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough and he’ll say, “No thanks, I’ll just get an Ice Pop at home.”
One day I womped up homemade banana pudding with vanilla custard topped with sculpted, lightly browned meringue. I was delighted when he agreed to try some. He spooned up a mouthful with enthusiasm and said, “Umm delicious, but I think I’ll have a blue Ice Pop please.”
Come to think of it the rest of his eating habits are a little peculiar, too. For a long time he wanted only hot dogs. Occasionally he would eat noodles as long as they were served with ketchup and Ranch dressing. If you press him to eat vegetables he says, “OK, I love broccoli.” He’s referring to broccoli, singular. He will accept a moderate helping of broccoli on his plate, eat ONE broccoli, say, “I love broccoli,” but decline to eat any more because he’s full.
One day he said he loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but it turned out only to be a one day transition food from hotdogs to bologna sandwiches. Now he loves bologna sandwiches and has been eating bologna and cheese sandwiches nearly every day. I’m not sure he truly likes the taste of bologna as much as the roundness of it. Yesterday he requested a turkey, ham and bologna sandwich. When I refused on the grounds that a three meat sandwich was too much he looked puzzled. Prior to that I’m not certain that he really looked on Bologna as a meat. Maybe he’s right.
What were the three most important things for a boy to do? Mom, Apple pie and Baseball? Well, if you ask my All American Kid he’ll stick by Mom and Baseball, but Apple Pie? He’ll say ah- baloney!