And the eye rolling begins

I tend to think of young school age children as still being part of the parental fan club. It's not supposed to be until they reach the teen or at lest tween years before they no longer believe we are cool. Or at least that is what I've been fooled into believing. I think this may come sooner than we had anticipated.

This week after one of his ever multiplying number of soccer practices (that's a whole other topic I should write about, but just not right now) Big Dog was excitedly telling Mr. Dog about the drills they ran. In one of the games, Big Dog was explaining that each of the boys involved had balls and that he would kick the other guy's balls then the other guy would kick his balls. (I think you see where this is going, right? If not, you are a better person that either o the so-called adults in this family.) Mr. Dog listened attentively but I can only imagine the grin that was working the way across his face. Finally after listening to the mutual ball-kicking explanation for longer than any man with a slightly absurd sense of humor should be asked to endure without comment, Mr. Dog said, "Wow, that sounds painful!"

Big Dog paused, and in his best exasperated with the nonsense of the adults he is forced to live with voice said, "Papa, what kind of balls do you think I'm talking about? Soccer balls!" Then rolled his eyes in a way that silently but effectively conveyed  "You are a buffoon, your joke isn't funny and I can't believe you have once again dragged me down to this level. Your humor is beneath me."

Between that and the recent spate of dramatic tantrums, I think we have a glimpse of what's to come.  And let me tell you, at least the annoying your own kid part of it is kind of addictive.