Nashville's Wayne Gretsky

To say that my son loves hockey is an understatement. To him it is the greatest thing in the universe. We play hundreds of different things every day - from pirates to riding bikes to digging in the dirt but every day we get some hockey in - whether it is inside or outside we are at some point at the rink.

For his 2nd birthday we got him a Little Tykes golf set which has been used for its intended purpose of golf around 3 or 4 times. To him it is a hockey stick and puck. As usual today, it was the first thing pulled out when we got outside. He is getting pretty good at his slapshot as evidenced by the red welt on my thigh from where that little white ball pummeled me (but hey I did stop a goal). He even goes so far now as to stop the game for intermission and the cleaning of the ice by the Zamboni (which is actually me sweeping the driveway with a broom - as instructed by my 4 year old).

His love of hockey is even a good behavior tool. This week he was playing with a broom at school and waving it around his head. His teacher told him to pretend it was a hockey stick and not to swing it up so high because he didn't want to get a high sticking penalty. He kept it down by the ground the rest of the day.

And where is Quinn during all of this? Well, she seems to be taking after her mother. This afternoon she pulled out a chair and sat in the yard and pretended to be on the phone and to text while the game was going on. I think she is waiting, like me, for basketball season.