We were playing baseball out in the backyard, with him facing the house, from the back of the yard. Bad idea. Much to my surprise, he hit the ball so hard, it almost broke our neighbors window! Then, he hit the ball so hard, this happened...
WHY didn't I sign him up for T-ball?! (kicking self)
Last Sunday, we took him to the park to ride his bike. While we were there, he saw some people playing tennis. He announced that he wanted to learn to play. "We don't have any racquets, Dylan!" "Well, let's go home and get them, and then come back!" "Uh... no". I figured he would forget about it by the next day. Nope. It was the first thing out of his mouth Monday morning. He kept at it until I finally succumbed Monday afternoon. We played for an hour, until I finally had to make him stop! I was exhausted. Not Dylan, though. He could have kept playing for another hour.
Guess what we did for another hour on Tuesday?!
If he ever gets over the losing tantrums he'll be a coaches dream! He plays with passion! He ran after the ball at top speed, dove for the ball, and then screamed, "I'M OKAY!", before popping back up to run around some more. Meanwhile, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to lift my arm the next morning to comb my hair. I'm gonna need to get in better shape to keep up with this kid.