Friday, December 09, 2011

Smells like Teen Spirit?

Mornin', y'all.  Oh, how I miss my southern Missouri roots.  As a kid I always considered them "the south".  I was so naive.

My little guy has been talking about Louisiana for about a year now.  Very funny kid.  He has very specific goals for himself and has since he was about five years old.  Where in the world he developed this I honestly have NO idea.  Had it not been for his giant head pushed out of my own vag, I would have SWORN he was the milkGIRL's kid.  He is exactly like hubs in almost every way but this one - he has very specific goals on his future path.  Sure, it skews all the time - one day he wants to be a sports journalist, the next day he wants to play pro NFL, the next day he wants to maybe be a judge? (until I told him he had to be a lawyer, then he didn't like that one so much).

So Louisiana it is, at least for now.  Oh, and we have to come with him.  See, that's the deal, right mom?  He truly thinks that wherever he goes to college, hubs and I will just buy a house down the street so he can visit when he wants and of COURSE we won't miss any of his games.  Oh so young.

I've often asked him "what happens if you get to college and DON'T play football?"  That is totally out of the question.  "mom, why would I do that?"  He sees them as hand in hand.  He's disappointed that Harvard doesn't have a football team.  Nope kid, have to take up rowing.  Or that sport with the sticks that's kinda like hockey.  Can't remember the name right now.  Oh, and wear boat shoes without socks and tie cardigans around your neck.  Yes, I'm stereotyping.  It's my blog!

I guess I better warm up on my Cajun french influences and start looking up flood insurance rates.  It's never to early to plan.  Of course hubs and I have to stay FAR away from New Orleans - way to much sin available to us.  Besides I don't think I could ever get used to the Mule, Piss and Vomit they are famous for... I could never live around that smell no matter how much alcohol I drank.  Ewwww.

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