Passing down perfectionism


Mario has been cracking me up all weekend. He is such a hilarious creature with his quips to me through the day.

I told him a few days ago that I signed him up for baseball. He could hardly control himself he was so excited. Every day he asks me if this is the day he starts practice. He can’t believe he is going to play in actual games, too. When I told him, he just stated at me with a huge smile on his doll-baby face. But after a few seconds, he stopped smiling and looked as if was contemplating life’s deepest question.

“What’s up, bud” I asked him.

“Mom, I am not too worried about the practices but I am not sure if my throw is good enough for the games.”

Gotta love this kid.

I told him that his throw would get better in practices. He responded “I want the coach to think I’m good.” Sorry for my perfectionist tendencies, bud. You obviously picked up on them.

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Speaking of perfectionism, we were all getting ready this morning and standing in front of the mirror combing our respective heads of hair. Mario kept getting closer to the mirror and became fixated on something on his face.

“What is this, mom?” he asked as he pointed at a little pimple on his cheek. I laughed and told him he had his first pimple. It meant he was getting old! He was not so amused and started crying “get it off me, mom! Yuck!”

I told him he’d have to wash his face more often. When we got home from Stauf’s, he went straight upstairs to wash his face. Just a tad vain…(and when I went to take a picture of him, he absolutely refused!).

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