Ressss-A-Ling

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The Sparrow has started wrestling.

Or as he calls it, Ressss-A-Ling.

For real.

Like in a league.

With dues.

And real Ressss-A-Ling shoes.

And real Ressss-A-Ling headgear.

He doesn't like to practice.

He doesn't like to stretch.

He doesn't like to run.

He just wants to wrestle.

So the other night, after Ressss-A-Ling practice, I asked him how it went.

"Ugh. Mom."

"Okay, Jake, what does Ugh, Mom mean?"

"Ugh. I got in trouble."

"Jake, why did you get in trouble?"

"Ugh, why do I have to tell you THIS?"

"Because I'm your mother. And because I asked you."

"Ugh."

"Jake, why did you get in trouble at wrestling?"

"Ugh. For playing with the girls."

?????????????????????

Did he just say he got in trouble at wrestling for playing with the girls?

What girls?

I am trying to process this really really fast.

Girls?

Oh, okay. I got it.

The girls who are sisters to the boys who wrestle, who come with their parents because they can't be left home alone because they are too young.

Those girls.

Okay.

"Jake, why were you playing with the girls?"

"Cuz I like girls, Mom."

Makes perfect sense to me!

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