Do boys really come from the Sandlot?

While folding laundry this afternoon, I caught a few minutes of "The Sandlot" on the tube. I laughed out loud at those boys' antics! And then I began to daydream about my precious baby boy sleeping away in his crib in the back bedroom. Would my chubby and giggly five month old baby grow to become one of these dirty, foul-mouthed, sports-crazed boys?

I've only been a mom to a boy for five months now. Our first child was a girl, and I can so easily relate to all things girl. I was never the "girliest" of girls (sorry about all those snide cheerleader jokes), but I so dearly loved my baby dolls, playing school, and cooking from my toy kitchen. So it's been natural to know how to care for a girl - how to make the perfectly perky blond pony tail atop her head, how to sit her on the counter while we make cookies, and how to encourage her to care for her own baby doll. In fact, I have birthday and Christmas gifts planned out for years to come. But what in the world am I going to do with this baby boy?

And how am I going to deal with trucks and tractors and backhoes and four-wheelers? I don't know much about football - except how to cheer for my favorite team. So what will I do when he asks me about the "option?" Will I be able to find the right way to tell him that all sticks are not swords to wield upon his sister? Will he ever want to take a bath?

I suppose one day my baby boy will resemble those dusty, sweaty, trash-talking boys from the "Sandlot," but for now, I'll relish the wide, slobbery, toothless grin he saves just for his mommy.