"Can I wear this shirt?" he asks. "It's The Maple Leafs. Can I wear it?"

"You're supposed to wear a white shirt," I tell him and, of course, I'm thinking fancy - like a dress shirt with a collar.

"It is white, mommy!" (as in 'mommy rhymes with dummy') "And it's a hockey shirt. Like for wearing to a hockey game..." his voice goes up but it isn't a question.  "Is it time to go yet?"

He's been excited all week. The second graders have been invited to open the Friday night game with O Canada. Boys wear white. Girls wear red. Liam wears a jersey. It's perfect.

We find a seat at centre ice so we'll be perfectly aligned for a picture. They end up way off in the distance (much to the chagrin of my try-hard iPhone camera) so we have little to show for the performance. He holds a flag high, waving it with true Canadian pride and he's closest to the microphone so his voice bleeds over the other children as they sing their hearts out for God and country and hockey. Their enthusiasm is brilliant and no flag bearer has ever borne better.