There are no less than a million things I love about my first born.
His remarkably sweet disposition.
The love he has for and gives to his family.
How aggressively he takes on the things that matter to him.
The perpetual hole where his front tooth should be.
There is one stand out trait that I genuinely admire in him. He is So Sure of himself and where he's going. I admire so much that he has no regard for the status quo and what he thinks someone else is doing or is going to think of what he's doing. He's So Sure that his way is the right way that it just doesn't matter. Case in point, remember Spirit Week? He was the ONLY kid dressed from head to toe in red and even at the end of the day it didn't matter to him that he had gone way over the top. There's a confidence there that was not inherited from me.
This week was not much different. He was at basketball camp at UCIrvine and they competed in teams for points in strategy and spirit, in addition to standard game play. He came home on Wednesday with a painted on moustache and announced that he played for the Moustache Mustangs. Oh-kay
Thursday morning finds me in the kitchen wondering why the box of markers is on the floor and I didn't have to drag Max out of bed to have breakfast before camp. Here comes my Mustang with his painted on moustache. WTF?
Honey, are you sure you're supposed to have a moustache again today?
Mom, I play for the Moustache Mustangs. Yes
Are you going to be embarrassed if no one else has a moustache?
So that's that. He strutted right into the Bren Events Center and onto the court with a Crayola washable marker in brown above his lip. No questions asked. No stolen glances to see if he was the only one.
It didn't matter, because he was So Sure of his choice. Good for you, Punky. Don't change a thing.