cupMy son starts a new baseball season tonight. He’s always loved playing baseball so he’s really excited for it. This will be his last year in our town’s rec league because he’ll age out.

He’s almost 15. And he’s grown quite a bit taller since last year. Taller than me by seven plus inches. So he needed a new batting helmet, a larger glove and some cleats. His feet are the size of small canoes.

We went to the local sporting goods store yesterday to buy his equipment. The store where, a few weeks ago, I was busted being a Dirty Mommy. We picked out the cleats and went to another part of the store to get some socks. Across from the socks were a line of cups. Athletic cups. The ones that protect a guy’s family jewels. His cohones.

And I loved the conversation that followed. A combination of embarrassment (on his part), teasing (on mine) and feeling like we were in on some secret joke (together). And with a teenage son, that’s not easy to come by.

Kid: Oh, Mom. I think I need a new cup.

Me: Why, did you outgrow your old one?

Kid: (Sideways smile.) Mommmmm. It started to get uncomfortable last year.

Me: Okay.

(We walk over to the display but not before Kid looks around to see if anybody we know, or even don’t know, is watching.)

Me
: Well, what size are you?

Kid: I don’t know.

Me: Well, how big is your penis?

Kid: (Looks at me in disbelief.) I, um, I, um……

Me: Just kidding. Let’s look at the sizes.

(Look of relief and a smirky grin from the kid. Out and out laughter from his mother.)

Kid: How about this one? It comes with the slider shorts.

Me: Well, what size is it?

Kid: Youth large. But I might be an Adult small.

Me: (Trying to keep a straight face while looking at the size chart on the back of the package.) Well, the size seems to be based on the size of your waist. And even though you’re tall, you’re kind of skinny. I think Youth large would be right.

Kid: Ok. You know, this is the kind of thing that I’d rather do with Dad (my ex-husband).Me: (Thinking, “Well, but then I would miss out on all of the fun”.) Next time.

Kid: (Attempting to hide the cup package under his skinny arm.) Can we go to the register that has no line?

And just like that, my day was made.

I love my son. I love these interactions with my son. When it’s just the two of us. Whether we’re throwing the baseball around in the back yard, running an errand or just getting up  together at 5:30 am, before anyone else is awake, nearly every school morning. Talking to him while he sits at the kitchen counter and I make him eggs and toast, hot chocolate and pour him a glass of orange juice.

I’m nuts about him.