I’m talking about Pee Wee sports. On any given Saturday, you might see the Cowboys vs. the Colts, or the Aggies vs. the Longhorns. Not the pros, or the college players, or even the high-school kids —b ut teams consisting entirely of 6- to 12-year-old boys.

Who knew? Not me. I grew up with all girls in the house, and my home now is almost the same: We have three girls and one boy, but my stepson went through the youth sports stage long before I married his dad.

My daughters and I entered this strange world when they became cheerleaders for one of the teams — and I officially became a pushy parent.

Before I go any further, I have to admit that I wanted to be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader when I was a kid in the late ’70s. Sure, the costumes were cute, and getting all dolled up was part of the draw. But I was more tomboy than girly-girl. In my young mind, nothing else compared to being on the field, watching my beloved Cowboys play — and for free, at that. It was the same reason I wanted to be a referee, but I dumped that idea once I realized they got banged up pretty bad out there.

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