And the round thing is called. . . ?

Daymon has discovered that he's good at basketball.  No, not good, fantastic.  He gets to play on a team starting at the end of the month.  I've discovered I can successfully handle two hours and seventeen minutes of the sound of a ball being dribbled in the kitchen before losing my mind. 

On the phone with my mom the other day I was telling her just how great he is at basketball and she said "Oh, tell him Aunt Rhonda used to play and even went to state".  I did and his response? 

Stunned silence, blank stare of disbelief. 

"But. . .she's a girl!"

He then went on to explain that girls cannot play basketball or football or basically any sport involving a ball. 
Wow.

Apparently I'm raising a chauvinist.  Just when I thought I had this "raising boys" thing down pat. 

Excuse me while I set down my spatula and remove my pink apron with my perfectly manicured nails to reeducate my son.  I am only a girl after all.