The Boy of Summer?

Nicholas needs a hobby. He needs an extracurricular activity. Sophie has Girl Scouts. Lucas has choir. Nicholas....well, Nicholas does nothing but play video games.

Ruanita and I are big proponents of our children being well-rounded. Of finding a passion. I can't really say that Girl Scouts is Sophie's passion, but at least she is engaging in some sort of activity until she finds her passion. As for Lucas, I can honestly say that I believe he has found his passion in singing. He loves it. He sings all the time. Seriously. All. The. Time.

This week, he is going on retreat with the Metropolitan Boys Choir. Two full days away from his mom at a camp ground with a bunch of other boys singing Latin choral music. And he is pumped! He is as pumped as I would be about a free latte from Starbucks. Or a half-off sale on socks are Target. Or the opportunity to pee alone. Seriously pumped.

But Nicholas is a different story. He has yet to find his passion. Being a loving and dutiful mother, I believe it is my responsibility to help steer him toward his passion. Therefore, I have spent the last year combing the recesses of my brain trying to come up with an activity for Nicholas. What have I come up with?

Baseball.

Okay. You're right. On the surface, Nicholas does not really seem like the athletic type. At all. And he is not exactly outdoorsy, so he would not easily be mistaken for one of the "Boys of Summer." But he has played a bit of baseball in our own back yard. Okay...it may have been with a plastic bat. And it may have been an abnormally large plastic ball. But my logic is sound. Hear me out.

He is good. He is the only one of my three children who could hit the ball at all when we've played baseball wiffleball in the back yard. He has amazingly honed eye/hand coordination--likely a result of his much-too-early introduction to a joystick. But he is spot on. He hits the ball almost every time. He hits is hard, too. And he enjoys hitting the ball. He giggles with glee when we play. He's even mentioned that he may want to play baseball one day. I take that as positive affirmation of my Nicholas-the-future-major-leaugue-baseball-player theory.

At least, I took that as positive affirmation. Until I discussed it with Nicholas in the car this evening. The conversation went like this:


Me: So, Nicky, what would you think about playing baseball next summer?

Nicholas: I don't know.

Me: You like baseball. You've told me so.

Nicholas: But you can get hit with a ball if you play baseball.

Lucas (chiming in uninvited): Someone has been killed playing baseball before, but it was, like, a hundred years ago.

Me: Thanks, Lucas.

Nicholas: What if I get hit in the head?

Me: Well, when you are up to bat, you wear a special helmet that protects your head. So even if you get hit, you won't get hurt.

Nicholas: So what if I get hit someplace other than my head?

Me: That's not likely to happen.

Nicholas: What if I get hit in my tummy?

Me: Your tummy?

Nicholas: Yeah, my tummy is very sensitive.

Me: Really, Nicholas?

Nicholas: Yeah, I don't want to play baseball. I might get hit in my sensitive tummy.

Me: I don't think the pitcher is aiming for your tummy.

Nicholas: What if I hit myself with the bat?

Me: Hit yourself?

Nicholas: What if I swing the bat and it keeps right on swinging and hits me in the back?

Me: So you don't want to play baseball because you might beat yourself in the back with a baseball bat?

Nicholas: Um...yeah.

So....scratch that. Back to the drawing board.

Origami, perhaps?