My OH has footy aspirations for Baby Z. Being a completely crazy football nut the OH plays football regularly, watches it on TV regularly and will even attend the opening of an envelope as long as that envelope contains anything remotely related to football in it.
So imagine his joy when Baby Z learned the word “Goal!”. It was as if, at the tender age of 16 months, half of his footy training had already been complete. Baby Z loves kicking a ball around and there are even glimpses of him being left footed. (I dunno…apparently that’s a good thing!). He loves screaming “Goooooaaaal!” any time someone scores, it doesn’t really matter who, and he will run straight towards any football playing crowd on our daily visit to the park.
There is something, however, that I need to break to the OH some time soon. I actually think Baby Z is going to be a runner. Probably a long distance one. He has all the stamina of Mo Farah and all the speed of Usain. He is already going through a daily training programme. Completely self motivated, Baby Z will thrust my keys into my hand and declare “PARK!”. He is at the door before me and refuses any amount of help with warming up or being picked up. He would rather dart straight to his training ground and just run and run. And run. And run. And run.
With all the improvement in his speed I’m actually thinking of investing in one of those mobile buggy things.
So, OH, if you’re reading this… We have a runner on our hands, not a football player.