basketballI had planned to continue with the politically charged posts today, based in part as a response to Damon’s comment from yesterday. But I’ve still no internet at home and upon my arrival at work discovered a steaming pile of crap that needed to be dealt with yesterday. So, it’s a Moon Pie day – sweet and fluffy.

It may surprise you to hear that I’m not really a man’s man. I don’t know how to fix a car or mend a hole in the drywall or build a chest of drawers (though I’m a whiz at assembling Ikea furniture). I’ve never been much for locker room banter or male bonding and most of my good friends are women. And sports, I’ve never been good at sports. I love watching them – must get me some man points – but anything involving a ball tends to turn out disastrously for me.

This is one of the reasons that I fruitlessly hoped for a girl during Dr. O’C’s first pregnancy and am openly hoping for a girl again this time around. I don’t feel butch enough to guide a son through the gauntlet of boyhood. I mean, I have some useful skills. I can hand pollinate corn. I can quote song lyrics at the drop of a hat. I can remove a brassiere one handed. But just what the hell am I going to do when he asks me to build him a treehouse? What am I meant to do when he asks me to explain the internal combustion engine? And for the love of god, what do I do when he asks me to show him how to bowl a yorker?

These things are of concern to me, because Boy Z is living up to his moniker. He’s a boy’s boy. He’s rough and tumble. He’d rather wrestle than cuddle. He spends a fair bit of time fascinated by his own todger.

And, basically since birth, he’s been obsessed with balls (rubber balls you deviants). Dr. O’C is no more an sportswoman than I, so he’s got no genetic predisposition to athleticism, but if the amount of time he spends throwing, kicking, carrying or battering balls is any indication then we’ve got a future jock on our hands.

And as you can see from the photo at the opening of this post, Boy Z has some mad skills.

(And yes – as the perceptive Kitty picked up last week – “this blog, which parades itself as witty social commentary with über street cool musical references with a touch of science show-off-ery is just an excuse for (me)to post pictures of Boy Z…”)

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