Fathers and sons

The boy and I were at the playground last Friday. It was packed with parents and kids running off the energy from being stuck indoors at Thanksgiving. One dad was there with his 8 year old son and his 4 year old daughter (ages are a complete guess on my part). This guy was wearing the leather bomber jacket that seems to be made in a Xerox machine in some random city in China, and he was quizzing one of his son's friends.

-So Timmy, did you play football this year?

-Yeah.

-What team? The Titans?

-I didn't play for a team. I played in the park with some friends.

-Junior played for the Eagles. They beat the Titans twice.

When at the playground with Jasperoo, you only get snippets of conversation, as he's always heading for the next apparatus. A few minutes later, Jasper is playing the walk around and head towards field where kids are playing sports game. Leather jacket man is now quarterbacking a football game with a bunch of little kids, his son and daughter included. The Fonz drops back and aims a pass at his daughter that sails over her head and into the parking area. Her brother shouts, "You stink!"

I'm appalled. The whole time, I'm making up Leatherman's story. He probably played some high school ball and wants Junior to play football too. He yells "You stink!" at the tv when Tom Brady overthrows somebody.

I don't feel any need to turn Jasper into my clone. He's already becoming his own person. (He's much better than I am about putting things back where he got them.)