My oldest son just came home from picking up his football equipment for the new season.

No more flag football. Nope, playing tackle now. I suppose this means I need to start packing more than bottled water for the games. Would it be obvious for me to carry a cooler in one hand and a first aid kit in the other? I mean, I’m all for sports and a little friendly competition, but I’m also known to worry incessantly and this certainly qualifies.

I watched as my husband showed him how to properly wear his equipment, and Griffin grinned at me proudly the same way a graduate does when donning their cap and gown. All this and he hasn’t yet stepped foot on a field. His younger brother was more impressed than the time he sat with his mouth in the catching-flies-position at last year’s Jonas Brothers concert, and exclaimed ‘You look COOL, Griffin!’ which was immediately followed by, ‘Hey Mom, will they have hotdogs at the concession stand?’ Yes, they sell hot dogs at the concession stand. Hey, he has priorities.

Tackle football. Might be the first time in my life I’ve wished my son had taken up ballet.