We've created a monster

This is a long one.  Bear with me.

Dustin and I are avid WSU Cougar fans.  We went there, met there, graduated from there, and most of our closest friends are also shameless fans of the Cougs.  For crying out loud, our college slogans are:
Win or lose, we drink more booze.
Our drinking team has a football problem.

Our cheerleading team is kind of a joke.  Every dozen years or so we end up with a good team.  Somewhere in sports.  We look forward to those early season football games against Southern Methodist or NorthEast Michigan United College of the Arts (<--- I made that one up) because we know we might have a shot at winning.  We spend the rest of the football season carefully calculating which teams we think we will beat and usually end up allowing ourselves a 2-10 or 3-9 season.  Optimistically.

We wear our colors more often, in more places, and for no good reason other than the fact that being stranded 300 miles from a city in the middle of wheat fields tends to bring people together.

We have encouraged the rivalry between WSU and UW in our household since before it was even a household.  And, Dustin and I are- by no means- the most rabid Coug fans we know.  Not even close.  And, yet somehow, by hanging out with these people, the rivalry has rubbed off on Breckin.  He's been around watching football games with us, Bobby, Bull, the girls, and Uncle G since he was born.  He knows that Derek and Kait root for the other team and we should say boo.  But, today's events...... I don't know.  They kinda warmed my heart.  They kinda freaked me out.

On our way to the zoo (yes, I know, what about a lovely blog post recounting the zoo trip?  No.  I can't.  Not after this.) we have to drive past the college campus of the University of Washington.  We start up the slight hill on I-5 North bound, just past Lakeview Blvd., where the top of the U is coming into view.  Breckin sees the office building formerly known as the Safeco Tower.  He sees that it is emblazoned with a giant purple W and the words "University of Washington."  And, then.  This conversation.

Breckin:  Mommy.  I know what I want to be when I grow up.
Me:  Oh, yeah?  What's that?  (we've had a string of these conversations lately so I'm used to it)
Breckin:  I want to be a crane truck driver with a huge wrecking ball on it so I can drive that truck all through that town down there.  See that big tower?  That's the bad W and I want to knock it down and flush it down the toilet.  I will SMASH right into it with my wrecking ball!
Me:  Yeah!  That's awesome buddy!  I mean, NO!  Honey, you can't just knock buildings down.  We don't want anyone to get hurt!  We might be rivals, buddy, but we can't just knock their stuff down.  That would hurt their feelings.

Me, internally:  Wow.  This kid gets it but is already crossing the line.  I can't believe I just cheered him on as my initial response.  I love that he is feeling the rivalry but I have to discourage terrorist behavior before he takes some kid out on the playground for wearing that big purple W.  Foreshadowing?  Maybe.  It does my heart good, however, to hear his passion for the underdogs.

Breckin:  Oh, ok.  But they shouldn't wear that W with that purple.
Me:  Yeah, I know hon.  It only bothers us because they are our rival- they aren't really villains or bad guys.  It's just about the schools and the sports.

Me, internally:  Phew.  Maybe that diverted his energy and redeemed my motherly skills.  Remind me to tell our adult friends to tone it down during the next Apple Cup.  Wait, nah.  Nevermind.  THAT'S not going to happen.

Moving on.  Great day at the zoo.  Kids are fantastic, well behaved, and Breckin made Ella squeal with delight during our lunch break.  Everyone around us groaned with parental approval.  And, on our way out of the Zoomazium play place at the end of the trip......

Breckin (to some poor kid, probably 6 or 7 yrs old, on his way into the play thing):  Hey!  That boy is wearing purple!  Mommy, he's one of THEM!  He has that big W on his shirt.  Hey guy!  I'm going to flush you down the toilet.  Wolves are stinky!  Go Cougs!  (He still thinks wolves and huskies are the same thing.)
Me:  Breckin!  That's not nice to say.  He can cheer for whoever he wants.

Me, internally:  His father has gotten to him.  Dammit, Bobby and Dustin and Clark.  That's enough.  Wait- no- it just needs to be redirected.  He needs the preschool version of cheering for the Cougs.... not the drunk Vegas version.  I'm mortally embarrassed because even though we talk this way amongst our friends, I really don't want my kid taking it to heart like this.  It's just not as cute coming from a five year old.  I promise, we are not creating a terrorist.

The kid's Dad:  Husband a Coug or you?
Me:  Nods sheepishly.  Yeah, we both are.  Sorry 'bout that.
The kid's Dad:  Hey, don't worry about it.  Sounds like your little guy is off to the right start- just for the wrong team.  Grins, grabs his son, and walks away.
Me:  Thanks.  Have a great evening

Me, internally:  Hmmm.  If some kid shouted Go Huskies at Breckin, I'd encourage him to turn around and say Go Cougs right back.  Thank God we had our first Clark moment in the company of someone who appreciates the rivalry and can take it with a grain of salt.

I think I'll be encouraging Breckin to keep his NCAA pride contained to football games in the future 'cause you never know if the person on the other end is as forgiving.