I have never known anyone so desperate to be on a "team" as little Buster Boy. Poor thing is counting the days until his 5th birthday when (he thinks) he'll be able to play REAL football on a REAL team and REAL baseball (he specifically says no t-ball....that's for babies) on a REAL team. He can't count much past 30 so I haven't told him he's got roughly 450 days until he's 5.
I'm sure that detail is not too important in this quest of Team-dom.
In the meantime, he's got his make-believe teams working for now. And surprisingly, he scores multitudes of touchdowns and hits multitudes of home runs in each of his games. I believe he's stacked his teams.
It really is sweet to see this little booger dress up every day in one of his uniforms, acting as serious as if he's in the Superbowl or the World Series, running laps around the backyard, making amazing tackles on invisible players and hitting faux balls into the outfield crowd of the giant stadium.
He is an athlete to be reckoned with.
We received sports cards in the mail yesterday of his two cousins dressed in their football uniforms looking like the future Bulldogs that they are. All 82 and 96 pounds of them. Of pure muscle of course.
Buster could not be outdone. He showed up in the kitchen this morning with his football uniform on and said it was picture day for the team. He proceeded to pose in the backyard (I didn't even have my camera yet) and I laughed just watching him decide which knee he should put up and the proper positioning of his helmet.
Here he is in all his football glory. All 40 pounds of him. Of pure muscle of course.