Wednesday, January 27, 2010

I'm Not A Football Player



Today was a lovely day.  Nippy, but sunny.  The boys came home and headed straight for the trampoline.  A new favorite game for football-obsessed Sam is to get on the trampoline and throw his football high in the air, bouncing up to catch it.  Sometimes he and Benny dive for it together, seeing who can snatch the ball out of the air first.

So they asked me to come stand a little ways away from the trampoline and throw the football at them.  Then they'd jump up and try to catch it.

Keep in mind the trampoline has a net so I had to clear the net.

So.....I did okay the first few times, then I started missing.  And missing.  And missing.

And then I heard Sam say, "Mom, does your arm hurt?"  I said no, why?  He said, "Well, sometimes when my arm hurts I don't throw very well."

A few more tries on my part and he said kindly, "It's okay Mom.  You're doing a good job.  Don't feel bad."
Oh boy.  There is something both sweet and depressing in hearing your ten-year-old child make excuses for you and assure you that nobody is making fun of your total and complete ineptitude.  I never felt older and more out of shape than I did at that moment.

I snapped the ball into the cage a few times, then announced I was quitting.


Little guy was kind and reassuring some more, and I thanked him for being so patient with me.  Then I went inside and walked around feeling unathletic and fogey-ish.  But......the thing to take away, I guess, is that my boy is not critical, and he does understand the value in "giving it the old college try."

 

3 comments:

Tracy said...

Well, you know where he learned his patience and encouragement and kindness, right? I can hear his words coming out of your mouth the first few times he tries new things.
(PS - You are NOT old and no more out of shape than the rest of us moms.)

Kelly Bingham said...

LOL, thanks. He's such a tender hearted little guy. It kills me that he is inching towards teendom.

Barbara said...

When your brother Rick was about 7 he wanted to practice throwing his baseball to me and catching. I thought I was doing pretty well until he said, "Its okay mom, you can throw me your hard ones". Well, those were my HARD ones!