What's he like?

For some reason the other day, my six year old began comparing what he considered his catholic range of interests and hobbies with the dry sticks I use to pass my time. "I like riding my bike, pizza, Thai boxing lessons, popcorn, adventures, tuna with sweetcorn, and getting medals", he said. "You only like the boring news."

He should have added that I like films, because I was deeply tempted to reply a la Crash Davis in Bull Durham:

"Well, I believe in the soul, ................., the small of a woman's back, the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days."

But on reflection I think we need to wait a decade or so before embarking on the Ron Shelton back catalogue.

(Sorry 'bout the "...................." but I'll get the "weighted phrase limit exceeded" finger wagging from the Virgin Active internet cafe if I quote the actual dialogue directly.)