Let’s be clear: we are not avid table tennis players.
On the occasion that we happen upon a table, the kids always want to try it out. We spend a lot of time fetching wayward balls as they fly over and beyond their target. We laugh at each miserable attempt to connect with the balls, despite our best hope that they will actually ping pong. Games – if you can call them that – are a comedy of errors. And rules? We’ve got the jist of ’em, but the balls hardly in play long enough to enforce them.
PopPop is a more serious competitor. He keeps score. He follows the rules. He gets frustrated at our poor attempts. Clearly we collectively lack the coordination necessary for a satisfying game.
Yadon gets frustrated and then he gets mean as the score escapes his favor. Friendly games aren’t friendly when he’s upset.
So we fetch balls from behind vases, inside the cashier’s booth, and under the pool table. We kill time and try to squelch our tempers. And eventually, we surrender the table for calmer activity.
We’ve been so obsessed with visiting AC Moore this past summer, but have been distant since school began. Our weekly rendezvous at Golden Corral was often followed by a “we might as well stop there, it’s so close – and on the way home -” reasoning. And stop we did. And shop we did. Between Chi and I, we are art supply and stationery hoarders of the worst kind. We have products just waiting for inspiration and time.
Yes, she’s a perfect example.
We gathered to watch her class performance in this year’s Christmas program. As her class “transitional 4s” marched down the center isle, Ri began to cry. Her teacher held her and when they reached their pew, she spent several minutes consoling our child.
The performances began late. By then, Ri was quiet and watching the stage. Other children turned in their seats to search for parents in the audience. Ri didn’t see us.
Several groups preceded hers – each demonstrating the quirks of their ages in solo shimmies and dramatic belting. Finally, it was time for her to get up to the stage. She was placed up on the stage, with children on the steps in front of her and others behind. She looked out toward the audience as the kids were getting situated. It was then that she saw me and Chi.
I got one photo as she began to tear up. Then she started to sob and her “performance” was over before it began. She was escorted from the stage, where she stood to the side with Chi while her classmates danced to Jingle Bells.
There’s always next year… Maybe the third time will be better?