Owen has his own way.
If I take a Nerf football out onto the front lawn and engage him in a game of catch, he’ll take up the game with great excitement. He’s six years old now and already has a fairly strong, accurate throwing arm. His catching, it should be said, needs some work, but he’s perfectly happy to toss the ball back and forth for five or six or seven exchanges.
After that, he’ll start to tinker with the framework of what we’re doing. First, he’ll decide that we should be kicking the ball to each other. This will send me scurrying around the yard in pursuit of errant kicks, to Owen’s great amusement. Then he’ll decide that we should be standing with our backs to each other and tossing the ball backwards over our heads. Or hiking the ball between our legs to each other.