Last night was the opening night of the 2012 Summer Olympics in London, where, for a while earlier this year, J and I actually entertained the thought of going. J and I love (watching) the Olympics, probably because neither of us are particularly athletic or that into playing sports ourselves. Between the two of us, I’m probably more athletic than J is – although I can’t truly be too sure of this because I rarely see J play any sports, which is ironic because J is probably the biggest sports buff that I’ve ever met. Just ask anyone – my husband knows more useless information about basketball, football, baseball, soccer, any and all sports than probably the ESPN announcers. (*Long suffering sigh*) Although when I do see J play sports, he is surprisingly spry, so I really have no idea what genes he is passing on to Baby Z.
J and I were actually living in Beijing for a brief time shortly following the 2008 Beijing Olympics, and we did a tour of the Olympic sites, such as the Bird’s Nest and Water Cube. They were pretty amazing structures – but then again, the entire Beijing Olympics was a study in extravagance and over-the-top opulence. Not that we’re complaining – the Beijing Olympics was freaking awesome.
Anyway, as we sat watching a much more muted opening ceremony in London last night, J and I got to talking about what kind of Olympic athlete we’d want Baby Z to be.
Me: A gymnast? That’s probably my favorite Olympic sport.
J: No, they sacrifice too much of their bodies for their sport.
J: Baseball player?
Me: Is that even an Olympic sport? Whatever, no because they’re all fat and on steroids.
J: You’re ridiculous.
J: Tennis player?
Me: That’s a white people sport. But tennis players are ridiculously good-looking…
J: Because that’s what’s important.
J: Maybe. But you’d have to teach him how to swim because I can’t do it. (note: J is not a good swimmer.)
Me: Figure skater?
J: No. Outfits are too tight. For both the dudes and the chicks.
J: Basketball player?
Me: Good luck with that one, unless we can produce a miracle Jeremy Lin #2.
Me: Ping pong?
J: Over my dead body. Too nerdy.
Me: Over my dead body. It’s too dangerous. I’d have a heart-attack just watching him.
Me: Track and field?
J: No offense to our peeps, but our baby would have to black.
Me: Oh my god, that’s so racist.
J: Oh, and calling tennis a white people sport isn’t?
Me: Fine, then I guess our baby better stick with ping pong.
So…Baby Z, looks like you’re not going to become an Olympic athlete, at least not one that your Dad and I can agree on. Don’t worry, we’ll save a seat for you on the couch with us.
Let the 2012 London Olympics games begin!! Yay!