How to give an eel a wedgie?

Actually this conversation started out with: "What does an eel taste like when you take the electricity out?" That was the original question my 5-year-old asked me. Where does he come up with these things?

So his Dad suggests I show him pictures of eels online and sometime he will take him to try eel in a restaurant.

"Do eels have fins? If they do, they must be under their arm pits?" he said with a little giggle while he waits for the page to load. Connor, you can be so crazy sometimes.

That leads us to a website that features pictures of eels and then some underwater wrecks, including a silly picture of four underwater divers pretending to use the bathroom facilities in a sunken ship.

Connor loves it even more than the eel pictures and the lifecycle of the yellow eel that we discover.

Now, he starts to giggle. "Mom, type 'How to give a eel a wedgie.' Come on, do it Mom." He giggles harder after I type, although he can't read the words yet. I could have typed, 'How to appease a goofy five-year-old' for all he knew. But it has satisfied him for now and he's off onto another topic or three in the next few minutes.

A lady asked me on the bus yesterday if I couldn't wait until they grow up. At times, yes. But not at this moment.

Soccer done?

I'm still amazed when I come home after work and stay home all evening. That wasn't the case a few weeks ago. We were running four nights a week to different soccer pitches throughout Mill Woods. I'm sure Daniel, who we invited to join us, thought we were either crazy or was pleasantly pleased to have run of the house every Monday to Thursday evening throughout May and June.

We should have changed the message on our phone, "You've reached the Taylor household but we won't be home again until after soccer season thanks to two boys on two separate schedules." Last February, I thought I was being especially smart when I signed the boys up for soccer on separate nights (Sean on Mondays and Wednesdays and Connor on Tuesdays and Thursdays). It was to cut down on the running around I witnessed other soccer families experience with having to drop one child off and then race to another field to drop off the second child. They could only chat for a few minutes before tearing off to the first field to pick up a child in hopes or returning in time to pick up the second child. They didn't get to sit down for a single game all season.

Even without coaching or managing either of the boys' soccer teams this year, it was hectic to get everyone fed, dressed, arrive at the field (almost never on time), go home, prepare the boys for bed and then make lunches, reload school bags before falling exhausted into bed as well.

So why put ourselves through this annual ordeal? I'd like to say its because I have a budding Beckham, but my kids were more likely to score on the wrong goal or get too physical with the other players. No, I'd say we do it because the boys look forward to it and I enjoy the skills sports teach children - cooperation, sportsmanship, friendship, camraderie. I recently found a quote I love: "Sports do not build character... they reveal it." - John Wooden

I'm not bent on the boys going into soccer next year. In fact, I won't be surprised when Sean or Connor choose another sport as I noticed Sean's U8 league was more competitive. That will naturally cull a lot of children who aren't future soccer stars, but it gave them a chance to try it before tackling something else,... after we all take a break this summer.

Toothless Wonder

My son has the most adorable gap in the front of his mouth. You can just barely see the adult tooth peeking through. This wouldn't be a big concern except for how he explains it got there.

"My mom kicked my tooth out."

No, I wasn't using karate moves on him -like I have any. We were playing a game on the sidelines of his brother's soccer game to keep him sitting still for a few minutes. He'd place the ball on my legs while I'm sitting in a lawn chair. Then I would raise and lower my legs to roll the ball up and down my legs while trying to keep it from falling off. It was going very well, until the ball started to fall off and I lifted my feet higher just as he leaned in.

Pow! The feet and his jaw collided and luckily I saw his tooth, which was hanging on by a sliver of gum, fall to the ground. Then the tears... you'd think I had round-housed him, especially with the amount of blood pouring out. Someone asked if he had bit his tongue, but it all came from his gums and ramped up by how hard he was crying, poor dear.

Fortunately a few moms from our team appeared with tissue and wipes and support. That and a promise to go for ice cream and a reminder about a visit from the tooth fairy and he settled down to watch the game on my knee.

He really hasn't had a lot of luck with losing his teeth. His classmate punched out his first tooth in gym class. The second one he worked out on his own. And now his mom has kicked out his third tooth. Only another 17 baby teeth to go.