Sage and I were watching the NCAA womens basketball tournament on TV the other night. UConn, my alma mater, was playing Baylor in a semifinal game.
I pointed out to Sage that these were girls playing.
"Look how much fun they're having," I told her. "Look at their muscles. Isn't that cool?"
Sage looked somewhat interested.
"And see that coach? When Mommy was young, that coach? For Baylor? She used to play basketball. She had long braids and she was awesome."
Sage seemed impressed by the idea of the hair.
"You could play, Sage. You're tall. You'd love it."
Sage thought for a moment. "Yes! I will play basketball. And soccer. And tennis."
"That's awesome! See? You don't want to be a cheerleader. They have to sit on the sidelines. They don't get to play."
We watched. I tend to provide some, um, running commentary during games. Loudly. Especially when UConn is playing.
Sage still sat with me.
And then she killed me. Just stuck the knife right through my heart and twisted it.
"Mommy? I think I want to be a cheerleader. I'd get too tired if I had to play basketball. I'd want to sit down. Like the cheerleaders. That's what I want to do."
Just so she could prove to me how exhausting it is to even CONSIDER playing basketball, she proceeded to fall sound asleep on the couch two minutes later.
Thankfully she's only 4 1/2. There's still time to lure her away from the Dark Side.