And so it Begins

Yesterday I heard the words I knew were coming. They were inevitable. His daddy played it. His grandpa played it. His uncles love it. He sleeps snuggled up with it every night as if it were a soft, cuddly teddy bear. Why would it not flow through his veins? And so I sat in my chair for an hour or so tossing his football as he ran around the living room catching the ball every time despite my inability to throw straight.

"Mommy will you play football with me?"