The list of sporting events I have not attended is short.

From the big three (baseball, basketball, and football) to the obscure (frisbee golf), I have seen a lot.

However, Saturday I was able to add a new one to the list: monster truck show.

It is possible I attended one as a child, but when I was talking with my dad about it, he couldn’t decide if he took my brother, Willie, or me, and I flat out just did not remember.

So, we are calling Saturday my first time.

Considering fireworks made me cry as a kid and my dad would cover my ears when we went to minor league baseball games when I was 5 because the crowd noise hurt my ears (true story), monster truck rallies have never been on the top of my list.

You might have guessed they are loud.

Of course, I have grown up some since 5, but loud noises still are not my favorite things in life. However, big trucks are cool and my father-in-law, Dennis, wanted to take his grandson, Mitch, to a show at Hartman Arena.

Of course I wanted to go.

Mitch is almost 4 so I (and his grandpa) can take him to things like this and he actually will sit still (unlike his 2-year-old sister) and won’t just blow spit bubbles (unlike his 10-month-old cousin).

He loved walking on the track before the show and staring up at the bigger-than-life trucks. His favorites were the “red ones,” which included “Barbarian” and “Hot Tamale.”

Sitting in our seats, which were great by the way because Hartman is small and every seat is a good one, Mitch looked so big as he kept his eyes glued to the track, waiting for the trucks to emerge.

I could not help but think he would turn into a bucket of tears when the trucks revved their engines louder than he has ever heard Mommy or Daddy yell at him.

Turns out, he is not the big baby that I apparently was at 3.

He was a little tentative at first, but hardly showed any signs of being scared. The one exception was when I took him to the bathroom and it was just as loud. However, since he could not see the trucks it seemed like they were about to drive straight through the bathroom.

Still, no tears.

The tiny, rubber earplugs I bought him worked fine and when the show ended he was looking for more.

I was proud of my little man who showed his father that loud noises never hurt anyone.

Now, if only I can convince him to think that way about thunder.