Is it their caveman roots? In the pursuit of the hunt, it was always a competition of who would get their first, right? Who could make the better kill? Who would bring home the better prey? Is this why boys – particularly ours currently – are so completely engrossed in a nonstop competition? It does not matter WHAT the topic or circumstance – who has a bigger piece of cake, who is the first one to arrive and sit upon the shoe-putting-on-stool, who has more “homework” (‘cuz you just have SO much when you’re 4 and 6) – they even argued about who was sweatier after a hot morning at Sports Camp this week! Seriously?! It’s nonstop with the competition right now!

Thankfully, their first little intro to team sports was all focused on teamwork and having fun rather than skill (which they lack) and competition and victory (which they are constantly striving for anyway). After a cold, rainy 4th of July, Seattle did the often typical – get beautiful and hot starting on July 5th which also was our first morning of Sports Camp. 4th festivities include going to a neighbors’ for a damp bbq and then home to get in pajamas and watch fireworks from the couch in the living room. [Please note Matthew’s patriotic outfit of choice; Army Man Dan will be proud]. It worked out well since we could get the boys to bed a little earlier for their early morning. The boys enjoyed their first camp experience although so far it doesn’t appear that we have any natural Olympic athlete offspring…yet. You can see in their picture with the coaches that their enthusiasm just could NOT be contained. (They DID have a good time, for the record, just NOT for that picture).

Zachary, as usual, has been a clown lately. We got our first ever slip ’n slide yesterday. His technique is classic: sprint to the end of the slip ‘n slide, abruptly halt, jump once in place, pause, then flop on to his tummy upon which he scoots about a foot before coming to a stop. He then pushes himself like a frog down the rest of the slide. After we came inside and the boys showered off, I started to put lotion on him (which is tricky when he’s a moving target, dancing his naked little bum all around the place). I’d barely touched his arm when a little hand shot up in front of my face motioning me to stop.

“Woah, dude,” he exclaimed, “That’s too cold. You gotta warm that action up.”

Apparently the cold lotion – while I thought it would be refreshing seeing as our house was 98 degrees – was a bit too chilly. I rubbed it together in my hands and blew on it. He gave me an approving nod before I continued with the lotionizing. “Now, THAT is what I’m talkin’ about!” he said with gusto.