Ring-A-Ding-Ding 10 year old Style

My son Evan has a good buddy he plays baseball and basketball with named Miles and Miles has gotta be one of the most entertaining 10 year olds I’ve ever met in my life.

He’s the kid who walks up to you after practice and shakes your hand and says, “Thanks for your time, Coach”.

And he’s also the kid who was visiting one of his neighbors and said, “I really enjoy being here with you but if I become a burden, feel free to send me home.”  If only I could get MY kids to say that.  Preferably when they’re in OUR house.  Now THAT would be something.

One time whilst conversing with young Miles, he used the word “magnanimous” in a sentence.  Correctly, I might add.  And if you ask him, he can tell you lengthy and incredibly detailed stories about turkey hunting, World War Two fighter planes, cleaning trout, and the difference between Corvettes and Porsches.

In short, the kid is sharp as a tack and a lot more enjoyable to talk to than most adults I know.

One afternoon last week Miles was over at our house playing with Evan when our babysitter Katie decided to take the two boys and our two daughters over to the pool for a little afternoon swim.

When they got back home 3 or so hours later I guess Miles pulled the babysitter aside and said, “You know, Katie, I really appreciate you watching me this afternoon and I know Anne and Mike are only paying you to watch 3 kids and having a 4th kid around means more work for you, so here’s a little something for your trouble.”

And with that, Miles handed her 4 bucks in cash and then went back downstairs to play the Wii with Evan.

Here are 3 quick thoughts on this little episode:

  1. I’m 4 times older than Miles and while I’ve tipped everyone from bartenders to garbage men to rest room attendants in my life, I never knew you could tip a babysitter.
  2. My prediction is Miles is the kid who will figure out a way to get a stretch limo to take him to and from Junior High School.
  3. If Miles were wearing a pork pie hat and a pinky ring and if he smacked the babysitter on the tush and said, “Thanks for everything, doll.  Now go out and get yourself something nice” when he slid her the 4 bucks, he’d be like a miniature version of Frank Sinatra or something.

When I grow up, I wanna be as cool as Miles.  But at this point, I’d say the odds are stacked against me.  Wayyyy against me.

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