The Big DumpTruck

Okay, if nobody else will say it, I will. I'm a great mom. And you know why that is? I'll tell you. It's because I'm not raising the next generation American Idol contestant. Let me explain.

When we watch the first few episodes of American Idol, we all think the same thing: on what planet do these people live that they think they have any talent at all?

I'll tell you what planet - planet Mom Thinks You Are Perfect.

Well my kid and I do not live on that planet. On the way to Little League tryouts last night, he was telling me what a great baseball player he is. And I pointed out to him that he actually isn't a great baseball player. He can hit the ball [more on that later] but his throwing and catching are horrible. And sometimes he runs like a spaz (I didn't use that term, by the way. Is that term no longer allowed in polite company? Spaz. What a great word.).

So he dialed back and said that he's pretty good, he's good at hitting, and I agreed with him. Now see, that's a kid who knows he's not perfect and therefore has some work to do to get better. If I told him he was great, he'd ask why he had to go to practice because "what's the point?" Sort of like these American Idol people. You know the ones I mean.

As for the tryout, he did about what I expected. The funny thing happened after they were done and I went to put my name down with the coordinator so that they can run a check on me to allow me out on the field. When I gave my last name and he found it on the sheet, he said "Did you teach him to hit like that?" So apparently he made an impression with his batting. Maybe they'll forgive the lousy fielding skills. Or he can grow up to be a DH. I dub thee....Little Papi!