Friday, June 1, 2007

My Baby Boy Got Broke.

My boy surprises me sometimes. "Hey Mom", he called from the top of the roof, "watch this!" and before I can stop him - he's landed on those glass ankles I unwittingly gave to him at birth. I admit, they weren't mine in the first place, I inherited mine as well - but dang - the boy should have figured it out long before his 14th birthday. That day he broke himself, the month before he broke me when he demonstrated a move the legendary Reggie White had been teaching him - thank you Reggie.

When he played football - which was virtually every waking moment of his life from the time he was 11 to the day he swore into the U.S. Army 9 years later - he broke at least 1 bone a year, usually a small ankle bone, and both of his legs have been cast and wrapped for most of his teen-twenty's life. The kid could take over the world if he could stand up long enough to do it. Honestly, it used to surprise me how a boy his size even balanced on the skinny rails I gave him. We look like thoroughbreds - big butts, long strong necks, (I'd love to say we were both lean and fiery, but at least I'm fiery!) and we have that attitude of a race horse too - all while balancing on spindly little ankles just begging to be taken out from under us.

To be fair to my son, he did not break his ankle this time by playing football. He tackled the commanding officer on the soccer field - and threw the man and himself into the goal, rather than allowing him to make a score for the opposing team. Of course my son realizes that tackling in soccer is NOT the same as tackling in football - but years of training taught him to take out the man with the ball - at all costs. This time, it was an ankle, KP duty for the CO's inconvenience, and about 4 weeks of not getting to play any reindeer games on the range at Ft. Wainwright - poor baby - I asked him if he had to peel the potatoes - how silly of me. The Army doesn't use real potatoes anymore. Well, they're in frozen bags - they're probably real.

This ARMY is not my father's Army I'll tell you that. I called Reu the other day just to talk - forgetting he was enlisted I guess. He text me back a minute or so later to inform me that he was in formation, getting drilled by the SGT and would get back to me. Think about that - he misspelled drilled, but I knew what he was saying. The Army allows cell phones in case they lose a troop! I can hear the P.A. system like the one they had on M.A.S.H. "Be sure and set your cell phones to vibrate only, Col. Willim is due to arrive at 0800 for inspection. Anyone with a ringtone not conducive to the United States Armed Forces will be sent immediately to the barracks for latrine duty." What am I saying - the Army has maids now. Didn't you know? Room service, car service, catering - and all on the shoestring budget our Congress allows!

Maybe the boy can take these next few weeks and improve on his XBox skills. He requested that I send him several Army games and the movie Pride and Prejudice, but that's a Kiera Knightly thing, I'm sure. Get better boy!

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