My Future As A Hockey Dad

P and I were at a party a while back, one of the rare occasions we're socializing without The Boy. We moved through the crowd, meeting and greeting, before settling into a conversation with a nice couple clutching a baby girl. Naturally the conversation revolved around the cherub, the usual parent small talk, age, name, size, etc "... and she's sixteen pounds."

"Wow, she's a big girl"... you lying bastards.

Clearly she couldn't have been that heavy, she was a full month younger than The Boy, and from my perspective a full two inches smaller in height, width and depth.

And the rest of the night I was obsessed with this. "How can she be heavier?" "Did you get a close look, she was clearly smaller." "What sort of drugs are they on?"

"Well The Boy is part Asian," P offered, "so maybe he inherited smaller Asian bones. It's not a bad thing, I'm attracted to you."

Why thanks honey, and might I say you look hot in that pant suit too.

What really surprised me was how quickly I started comparing their baby with ours, and how easy it was start thinking that way. I'm really not that competitive, and I tend to demur instead of taking the limelight. So how did this happen? Why should I really care if the aforementioned girl was actually heavier than The Boy?

I guess as a parent you become so intensely proud of your baby (and if you're not, you really shouldn't be a parent) that it skews your entire perspective. We all think our kid is the strongest, largest, smartest, fastest, but in reality every child is different. The Boy is what he is, and he'll develop at his own pace.

Hey, maybe there's hope for me yet. Maybe I'll become a Soccer Mom instead.