And one more Botafoguense is born

 The dreams of my Carioca husband have come true today. Our quasi 4 year old is sitting on the couch actively watching the Botafogo soccer game with Daddy and Vovo.  The key word is actively. 

My husband has been teaching this boy to love Botafogo since we found out a little egg had moved into the side of my uterus.  He would sing, much to my enjoyment, the Botafogo hymn to my ever growing belly. When Luka wouldn´t settle down to sleep in the belly at night, the song would always calm his kicking.  This has worked throughout his young life. 

But it´s one thing to know the team song and to be able to say that you cheer for Botafogo, and it´s another to sit and talk smack to the tv during the game with Dad. 

I have to say, it´s adorable.  I was 100% against having an obsessed kid when I was pregnant.  You´ve all seen the crying 7 year olds at the stadium when their teams lost. I couldn´t stand the idea of that happening. And to be frank, while I love Botafogo, it seems to happen a fair amount of time with them.  There´s only so much a girl can do and, obviously, my husband won.

Oh well, it is cuter than hell to have him sitting on Daddy´s lab yelling "Falta!" (fault), "Que isso!" (What´s up with that!), "Pega Botafogo, Pega!" (get it Botafogo! Get it!), and let´s not forget "Porra" (literally means cum but is better translated into a strong Damn).  Momma was not happy with that last one and everyone had a little chat with me about language use in front of the tiny ones. 

So it´s official, we now have 2 obsessed Botafoguenses in the house and one supporter. Let´s see if the little one jumps onto the Botafogo wagon as well.