Mothers & Sons

Moms can be so clueless. Take, for instance, this exchange between Casis third-grader-to-be Henry Presnell and his mom, Jessica Walton. I’ve just mentioned that Henry strongly resembles New York Giants quarterback Eli Manning.

Henry: I don’t even like Eli Manning.

Mom: What?

Henry: He plays for the Giants!!!

Mom: Are they like a Cowboys’ rival or something?

Henry: Ugh! Yes!

Me: Well, you do kind of resemble Eli Manning.

Mom: You could do worse. Eli is cute.

Henry: No, he’s not.

Mom: (flirtatiously) Oh, he is.

Henry: Ugh.

As you might can tell, Henry is a big Dallas Cowboys fan. His favorite athletes are essentially the Cowboys’ starting offensive lineup plus Travis Kelce, a tight end from Kansas City. Henry’s mom is from Missouri, so he’s required by Mom law to like at least one NFL player from her favorite team, the Chiefs, about whom she clearly knows next to nothing.

Henry: Oh, And I hate the Broncos.

Me: And the Raiders too, I assume.

Henry: Yes. And the Raiders.

Mom: You hate the Raiders? 

Henry: (Incredulously) I thought you were a Chiefs’ fan.

Mom: I am, but am I not supposed to like the Raiders?

Henry: Ugh.

Jessica apologizes for being a clueless mom, and Henry graciously albeit silently accepts her apology. We chat some more, then we go to Henry’s bedroom, which is something of a Cowboys shrine. Cowboy curtains. Cowboy sheets and blankets and posters and plaques and you get the idea. Henry loves the Cowboys.

He’s a big Longhorn fan too. He said he’s watched the Texas-USC Rose Bowl game with his dad “about 10 million times.” Because he’s Longhorn fan, he’s required by Dad law to hate Oklahoma, especially a certain former local quarterback. Somehow, Henry knows enough about the Civil War to compare this former OU quarterback to Gen. Robert E. Lee.

“Lee was against slavery, but he fought for the South,” he says, giving me a “How messed up is that?” look. 

Henry also likes and is very good at art, but it doesn’t compare to football, which he’s really good at. Last year, he made a one-handed interception and returned it for a touchdown.

Better yet, he has a great attitude, Jessica says. He’s the first to run out on the field and the last to leave. He’s also talkative and outgoing, and he’s a good brother to his 3 ½-year-old sister. 

All in all, Jessica says, he’s a wonderful kid.

“Actually, awesome,” Henry interjects.

Mom doesn’t disagree. What makes Henry particularly special is that he was born with a club foot. It was diagnosed in the womb, and he was in a cast the first three months of his life and in braces the next nine months or so.

“We knew very early on that he would be born with a club foot, and we were so worried that there might be complications,” Jessica said. “One leg might be longer than the other. One foot might be larger. I was really stressed out.”

He underwent some minor surgery at two months also.

“There was scar tissue,” she tells me, then turns to Henry and adds, “So you’re supposed to stretch more than other kids, but you don’t.”

Henry: Ugh, then signals to me that it’s time to go thumb through his 500 or so football trading cards and trash-talk the Broncos and that former OU quarterback.