Because Sometimes, You Just Have To

I like sports. I like watching my boys play sports. I think sports are good for kids, especially if you have one who has a tendency towards chubiness like Diminutive One. Keeping kids active is important. Teaching the values that come with team sports is important.

But somtimes, those lessons are difficult to learn.

As I mentioned in a recent post, Fall Ball has started. Both boys have moved up to a new league, and for Diminutive One especially, the transition has been somewhat difficult. Because of a late birthday, he stayed in the lower league longer than he really needed to. He was one of the oldest as well as one of the most accomplished players. He got used to that.

Now, he is once again the youngest, and his skills can't compare with those who have been playing in this league for several seasons. That's a little disheartening after being Top Dog for so long. But he's not alone. All the kids that have moved up are in the same boat.

It used to be that he knew everyone, regardless of who happened to get on his team. Not so in the new league. So he's been trying to make friends. Socialization is hard for Diminutive One under the best of circumstances, so I was really proud to see him making an effort to get to know his new teammates at one of the recent practices.

As I witnessed the following scene, however, my pride quickly turned to white hot rage.

Diminutive One: "Hey. What's your name?"

Cocky Little Snot: "None of your business."

Diminutive One: "Well, what grade are you in?"

Cocky Little Snot: "None of your business."

There wasa a pregnant pause as Diminutive One was temporarily stymied. Honestly, I don't think he's ever encountered such purposeful maliciousness.

Cocky Little Snot: "How old are you anyway?"

Dimiutive One: "Nine. I'm in 4th grade."

Cocky Little Snot: "I only talk to 10 year olds."

Diminutive One: "You were talking to Nick."

Cocky Little Snot: "Well. He's cool."

There was another pause as Diminutive One tried to process the kid's hostility.

Cocky Little Snot: "What kind of bat is that? Where'd you get that thing, Wal-Mart? What a piece of crap."

Diminutive One shrugged. It's a hand me down from his brother. He has no idea where it came from, nor does he care. A bat is a bat, as far as he is concerned.

Cocky Little Snot: "I bet I have the most expensive bat in the whole league."

Diminutive One shrugged again. He doesn't know and again, he doesn't care. And he decided that the kid is not worth his time or effort.

He seemed relatively nonplussed about the whole incident. Part of his difficulty with social interaction is that he really doesn't concern himself with others' wants, needs, or opinions.

But I...I was seething.

I thought about butting in and cutting that kid to ribbons with a few well chosen words. I thought about how I could wound him to the core without really even trying. I thought about a look of crestfallen shock on his smug little face. I relished the thought for a moment.

But I didn't do any of that, of course. What I did, is call husband, who, due to work issues, was stuck at the office.

Me: "Hey..umm...we're going to be a little late getting home."

Husband: "Okay. How come?"

Me: "I'm going to buy Diminutive One a new bat."

Now...we try very hard to teach our kids that material things are not important. They have far more than I ever did as a kid, but they don't have nearly as much as many of their peers. And when they ask why they can't have a certain thing, we try to be frank about our financial situation, the decisions we've made to keep me at home, and how we find other things more important than stuff, such as family time, a less stressful lifestyle, and pride in ourselves rather than our belongings.

I know that buying Diminutive One a new bat is the wrong thing to do. I should talk to him about being the bigger person and turning the other cheek and all that pacifist bullshit. But I don't care.

From my childhood I know what it means to never be the kid with the latest coolest thing. Just this once, I want him to the cool kid.

If I am honest though...that bat is not for Diminutive One. It's for me. Because I can't buy him a cure for his learning disability, and I can't buy him an education tailored to his needs at a fancy private school, and I can't buy him the ability to make friends with ease. I can't bankroll his happiness though I sure as hell would if I could.

But by God...I can buy him a damn cool bat.