I can tell you with 100% certainty the adults in this house have had nothing to do with the kid deciding she loves sports. NOTHING. If we were responsible for it, we would also be pulling her puppet strings away from the evil that is the Latina Whore (Dora), making sure she never so much as glanced at Zach Efron's thrusting pelvis in High School Musical, and there would most certainly not be a tacky pink cheerleader outfit sitting around. The kid has a mind of her own, and she definitely determines what she does and does not like.

Number one on her sports list is hockey. We didn't do that, but we're plenty happy to play along with it.

I think.

As Alexis and I were in the car, headed home, I happened to have sports talk radio blaring. She was OK with the noise coming out of the speakers because the topic of discussion was the Penguins. She loooooooves to talk about the Penguins. In fact, she was basically repeating everything the the radio guy was saying. Then, suddenly, she veered off track.

"Momma, he said 'Sidney Crosby.' I like Sidney Crosby!" she said, her voice dripping with the sounds of a young crush. I smiled to myself as she said it. After all, what is there not to like?

"Sidney Crosby can kiss me," she continued, blasting me out of my happy place and straight into my grave.

The teenage years are gonna suck, aren't they?