His parents are okay with that; as long as he has a signed contract, he doesn't have to go to c o l l e g e. But apparently, that's not all he's skipping. His sister Hannah was telling me how early their high school starts (at 7:30) and Nick just gasped and said, "And that's why I'm not going!"
"When do you think soccer practice starts?" I asked him. "11 a.m.? Mid-afternoon?" I could tell he's Mark's cousin by his work ethic...
Nick's love of soccer was so infectious that even Mark was affected. Mark, the boy who refuses to run after the ball, actually played soccer with Nick, kicking the ball against a bounce-back goal.
At one point, the ball sailed past the goal and into the garage. Mark raced to get it, but was distracted by somethin' shiny. When he came out of the garage, he did not have the ball; instead, he carried a new accessory which he turned, then flipped up onto his head.
"Look what I found!" he yelled, excitedly. He tipped the straw fedora at a jaunty angle, flipped it to the side, and swaggered down the driveway.
"Yo, Nick,wassup?" he said in his coolest voice, but Nick was not impressed.
"Dude, where's the ball?" he demanded, but Mark shrugged. His temporary passion for soccer was lost to his first love, fashion.
Nick retrieved the ball, but not Mark's interest. Instead, Mark flipped the hat around his head, and started jumping up onto his toes, a la Michael Jackson.
"Ooh!" he shouted, then started dancing around the driveway. Nick kicked the ball at him, but Mark moonwalked around it.
My brother Tim had finished loading the car for our day's adventure.
"Hey kids, let's go!" he called out. "Nick, Hannah, come on." He paused when he saw Mark's new hat, then yelled, "Justin Timberlake, get in the car!"
"Hey Uncle Tim, can I have this hat?" he asked, and Tim nodded.
"You can if you get in the car RIGHT NOW!" he answered. Mark quickly scrambled into the backseat.
Kim cracked up when she saw Mark in his skinny jeans, pink shoes and black fedora. She couldn't get used to a boy who actually cared about clothes -- the boys in Northern California refused to wear anything but sports jerseys, she said.
"I thought having a boy made me immune to all the fashion trends," I replied. "But God sure has a sense of humor, giving me the one boy who cares about clothes..."
That hat never left Mark's head. It wobbled a little as Mark did the Thriller dance, but never quite fell off. I walked through airport security with my mini Justin Timberlake, and spent the next morning at the endocrinologist, where Mark received lots of compliments on his new hat.
He finally took it off Wednesday morning, but only because he was going to school. He didn't want to lose his hat the first day.
I think he's gonna save it for this weekend, when he's bringing sexy back.
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