Byron and I often call Mack “The Mayor” because he treats even a trip to the playground as if he were a visiting local dignitary: gladhanding, kissing babies and offering handshakes all around.

Now he’s busy being the mayor of tee ball. Whenever he gets to first base he has a whole routine with the first-base coach that involves high fives and knuckle bumps, etc. It goes on for 30 seconds. He’s leading cheers and knows every kid by name, even though he’s the only preschooler on the team.

Yesterday, after the last of the other team batted in the first inning, Mack gave a huge whoop and ran off the field, yelling, “Come on! Come on!” All but one kid followed him, and it was so cute to watch the team following Mack, and actually running and acting like a team for once. Their coach never inspires this much enthusiasm.

Yes, Mack led them all to the visitor’s dugout, and they were the home team. Yes, this led to a minute or so of confused milling about before they all found their way over to the proper side of the field. So he’s the mayor, but he’s a Republican mayor.

In information that should shock no one, Mack’s tee ball coach today informed me that he is “super competitive.”

I’m just surprised it took her three whole classes to impart this to me.

I replied, “Really?” To which she responded with an outblow of breath, a small throwing-out of hands and a “Yeah!”

During today’s game of flag tag, about five boys converged on Randy, the class bully. You know the type, the borderline obese one who shoves any kid that gets between him and the ball, and “accidentally” knocks people down when he tags them out. Mack came away with Randy’s flag, a fact cheered by the kids and by all but one mom who was watching.

Randy snarled from his spot under the pile.

During the class-ending game of duck, duck, goose, Randy picked Mack.

Then he caught him and gave him a good shove from behind. Mack went down hard. I couldn’t hear from where I was, but the coach said Mack came up and accused Randy of going after him because Mack had earlier gotten his flag.

The coach said that she explained to Mack that wasn’t the case, and Mack calmed down.

However, I kind of think Mack might have been right.

Then again, I’m sorta “super competitive.”

Three-year-old Mack informs everyone that he was one of only two kids to hit a home run* during his at bat at tee ball class today. Yay Mack!

*”Home runs” are conditional in many ways. Some, but not all, of the factors that contribute to a tee ball home run include:

1) How well the child hits the ball off the tee.

2) The speed with which the instructor reaches the child and redirects him towards first base after the child goes tearing indiscriminately towards left field.

3) How many of the children playing in the field are actually paying attention to the at bat, rather than standing at the bleachers asking their mommies for goldfish crackers.

4) The “coming within ten to twelve feet of second base is close enough” clause.

5) Which child fields the ball. It’s usually Zachary or Carson (”The Big Kids”), and no way are you getting a home run. But if your ball accidentally trickles right up to the feet of Noah (”The Kid Who Won’t Participate Without His Mommy”) you stand a chance.