Today I signed Sweeney up for Little Dribblers Saturday morning football. I realised this summer that he's got some severe developmental delays around sport, for which corrective measures must be taken.
He can't tell the difference between football (soccer) and footy (rugby). We went past two chaps playing tennis one day and he insisted they were playing cricket. He argued with actual men over the rules governing actual cricket. Rules like the fact that you're supposed to hit the ball.
Even I know that's an actual rule.
In other news, today I got up, got us out the door, earned a living, got us home again, put food together, cleaned things, tidied things, got stuff ready for tomorrow.
Same same ...
But an amazing thing happened. Grandad O'Neill gave Sweeney a banner for rugby games a while back. On one side it says "TRY". We talked about it for a while, sounded the letters out, then we had dinner and a million other things happened.
Long story short, he's got the hang of the word "try". He knows what it looks like, what it sounds like, not a clue why there's a banner with that particular word on it. Who knew rugby would be the starting point for my boy's reading career??
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