To Everything There is a Season.

My 8 year old son, Enzo gets up early every morning so he can read the sports pages cover to cover. He pores over them at the kitchen table. He bangs his fist. He is like a middle aged man. If a game that he really wants to see is on a Sunday afternoon, he will speak of nothing else all weekend.

On Saturday morning, after he reads the sports, he will announce that he is going to be "RNH" the following afternoon. RNH stands for "Really Not Here". Fabio coined the phrase a few years ago. He says it whenever he needs to get stuff done around the house without being disturbed,and he is RNH when there is a big game on TV.

On Sunday afternoons, while Owen plays at the neighbors or just outside,Enzo will sit in front of the TV. I only see him during commercials. I have healthy 3 minute snacks for him waiting in the kitchen. No more eating in the TV room. If it is dinnertime, I will turn the game on in the kitchen. Thank God he's not a fat kid.

The weather has been too cold to do much of anything except stay home. Soon Enzo will need to end this little obsession and start playing outside. Summer will be better, so I indulge him now. It gets dark at 4, what are you going to do?

I let him watch all of the Super Bowl even though it was past his bed time. He fell asleep in the middle but woke up for the exciting finish. He wanted the Steelers so he was happy. I don't follow football but his enthusiasm overwhelmed me and I was screaming for the Steelers too.

During the Pro Bowl, Enzo explained to me in agonizing detail the differences between it and a regular season game. In the Pro bowl there is no blitzing,a coach cannot challenge, they can't replay and intentional grounding is allowed. Do you know how much they make mom? The winning team gets $45,000 and the losers get $22,500. To split? I just said that to make him laugh, he can be so serious.

He is now counting down the days, hours and minutes until pitchers and catchers report for Spring Training. Baseball is something I can get into with him. I love the Red Sox and so does he. Owen, or O contraire as we like to call him, likes the Yankees. I live in a house divided. A Tale of Two Cities. Owen is just doing this to bug us. It started in 3rd grade in a mad fit to impress a girl who won't give him the time of day in 4th, and now I think he feels stuck.

It doesn't help that we have a picture of him as a baby in full Yankee attire. It was a joke. I don't even know why I allowed it. We were living in Hawaii at the time so it didn't seem so evil. Fabio grew up in Westport, Connecticut and had been a life long Yankee fan until we met. In fact, it is sort of how we met.

I was sitting on a cooler at a party and Fabio wanted something that was in it. He asked me to move. I said, "Oh, am I sitting on the cooler?" I guess I didn't pronounce my "r" in cooler. He said, "Where are you from?" I said "Boston" (close enough). The very next thing he said to me was, "So what do you think of Bill Buckner?" This was 1996 , we hadn't won the World Series yet, unless you were counting 1918. Was he really bringing up 1986? I got up and gave him a hateful stare. I said, "I have to go." I was trying to be funny but the pain was real.

I really did have to go. I was supposed to pick my niece up at the airport and if I hadn't left then I would have been late. I left the party. Fabio found the hostess, my old friend from grade school,and said, "I have got to get that girl's number." He called me and we have been together ever since. Spent a romantic honeymoon in Cooperstown, NY if you know what I mean. We are perfect for each other.

I must point out that Fabio became a Red Sox fan BEFORE they won the World Series. How can you not root for the home team when you live in it? I will ask Owen.

Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on Owen, his dad threw loyalty out the window for a girl too.