I Salute You, Parker

Christmas Crazy is still going. You should clicky clicky and helpy helpy because nothing feels as good as making someone else's day better.

*******************************************************************

Floor hockey is going about as well as can be expected for Mila. She spends the hour running around like her pants are on fire and she's really very happy about it. She doesn't seem to realize that I'm in it for the memories, though. I'm looking for her to do something totally ridiculous or awesome or whatever, but NOPE. She refuses. She just runs around.

This other kid, though. He gets me.

Let's call him Parker because that's his name. I know it's his name because his parents (yes, both of them) spend the entire hour correcting him from the sidelines. He gets instructions to hit the ball to the left or right or run this way or that way and SHOOOOOOT! They're very invested in the whole thing is what I'm saying. It entertains me muchly.

This last session, though, the entertainment value went through the roof.

Parker and I could definitely be friends because he doesn't care. He's at hockey to have a little fun and he really doesn't give a hoot if he's having fun the way other people think he should do it. Thus, he holds his hockey stick all sorts of wonky. I mean, he's either 3 or 4 years old, so I'm thinking the only way he can hold it WRONG is to hold it while smashing someone over the head. If it's near the ground, GOOD JOB, PARKER.

His mom and dad disagree. More power to them, of course, because if they want to keep yelling, "Left hand on top!" and "Put your hands down lower!" and "Hold your stick with both hands!" and the like, I'm going to sit there eating popcorn and enjoying their brand of crazy. I just can't make myself care about anything as much as they care about how Parker holds his stick. It's great.

So they yelled at Parker for a solid half hour this past week. In what can only be considered a TOTAL BOSS MOVE, Parker decided he was done. The little man went from mostly participating to suddenly not AT ALL. With a flourish, he threw his hockey stick to the ground. He firmly planted his hands on his hips. He turned to face his mom and dad and then glared at them for a solid five minutes. He didn't move or blink or care AT ALL that there was still hockey going on around him. He had a point to make and he made it in the most glorious way possible. By glaring and not doing anything they told him to do.

Good job, Parker. May we all have the courage to show the control freaks in our life that we won't let their crazy control us.

Comments

[Karl]

Awesome.

When my kids were little (decades ago) and in tee-ball, we had a similar sort of tension between the dads who were losing $hundreds/hour because they had closed the office to watch the kid face the wrong way and eat daisies, and said kids. Mostly I thought the kids were winning that one.

If the kid is into it, great, but projecting one's adult fantasies onto one's progeny is not OK.

[bluzdude]

OMG, I love that kid! Meanwhile, I kinda feel sorry for him. For his sake, I hope his message took hold, or else he's going to have an unpleasant childhood. The time to coach him on the basics is at home. Once the game begins, shut it and let the kid play. Clap and cheer as appropriate.