Ben is in a football tournament today. I didn't even know he played footie.
RECEPTIONIST: Maternity ward, may I help you?
CALLER: Yes, I’m calling about my son. He was born at your hospital in 2011, and I was wondering if I might be able to speak to someone about something.
RECEPTIONIST: What is it that you’re calling about, exactly?
CALLER: My son has turned into a sporty kid.
RECEPTIONIST: I’m sorry, did you say you have a spotty kid? This seems like a matter for his pediatrician.
CALLER: No. He’s sporty. As in, athletic.
RECEPTIONIST: I’m sorry, but we really can’t—
CALLER: He led his youth basketball team in three-point shooting last fall.
RECEPTIONIST: Ma’am, what exactly is the problem?
CALLER: My son is… really good at sports. Like, all of them.
CALLER: Basketball. Soccer. Baseball. Football. And now he’s taken up tennis because it’s the perfect social-distancing sport. And he’s amazing at it!
RECEPTIONIST: This doesn’t seem like something the hospital would be concerned with.
CALLER: Well, I want to make sure he wasn’t switched at birth. He’s really fast! I can barely walk quickly. And he’s got amazing hand-eye coordination! People say to me all the time, “Wow, your son is really good at sports!” And what can I say? “Thank you”? I take zero credit for his athletic ability. It did NOT come from me.