I knew my boy would be athletic when he was around eight months old. We were at one of his older brother’s soccer games and I sat his plump little behind in the grass. He couldn’t move yet, so he simply screamed and reached his arms out toward an extra soccer ball lying a little ways down the field. I quickly grabbed it and rolled it toward him and for the entire 40 minute game he giggled and cackled and grinned as he batted the ball back and forth.

He’s five now and he is no longer a fat little baby. In fact, I sometimes wonder how it is his twiggy bird legs manage to hold him up all day long. But one thing has not changed – the boy loves sports.

While most kids his age are into Disney Jr. and CARS, my boy lives, eats and breathes baseball, basketball and…really, anything with a ball. The only station he knows how to find on TV is ESPN and there are some mornings when I walk out and find him engrossed in the highlight reel.

I am then forced to drink my coffee while listening to the run down on which teams are doing well and which teams are “being crushed.”

Join me over at The MOB Society today as we laugh at this business of raising boys.