The Boy spends his summers going to a wide variety of camps and activities. This year was no exception. He spent the majority of weeks at Karate camp–taking lessons, visiting museums, swimming twice a week, hitting the beach, and making new friends.
Before that he went to Lacrosse camp, confirming his love for the sport and discovering a previously hidden well of competitiveness beneath his artsy/goofy outer coating.
Each summer he has also tried something new and different–something he typically shies away from. I enforce this “rule” to keep him from settling into ruts and to try and keep him well-rounded. This year he tried two new things: Tennis and Acting.
The first tennis lesson was eye-opening… for me. He was the only boy in the group, and one of two with any coordination whatsoever. It was painful watching the rest of the students trip, hit each other with the ball, accidentally throw their racquets, and generally miss every ball that came their way. My boy wasn’t graceful or natural at the sport, but he could swing and hit the ball 90% of the time, which is why he was paired with the only other semi-good player in the class when the class broke up into separate matches so they could practice the basics they had learned.
The girl he was paired with was an adorable little blonde about the same age. She was a picture-perfect tennis star from head to toe–complete with her bobbing blonde ponytail and her little pink tennis skirt. She had a wicked forehand, and a lot of speed.
My boy took position across the net from her, proceeded to twirl his racquet loosely in his hand like the veteran pros I’ve watched on TV, his weight shifting back & forth in his ready stance. He stared her down over the net, waiting for her to serve.
“You’re gonna DIE!” my dear, sweet, never-wants-conflict little boy hollered at her. Thank you, lacrosse!
My mouth fell open and I slowly turned toward the little tennis-angel’s mom, cringing inside and preparing to apologize.
Before I could say anything, her mother laughed with genuine amusement and said “Boys! You gotta love ‘em!”
He and I had a nice talk on the way home about good sportsmanship & how to trash-talk without threatening bodily harm.
Filed under: Stuff, The Boy, sports (sort of)
