I was nervous as my son approached the
diving block, about to race his third event for the day. Why do I get like that? Anyone would think it was me having to perform!
They all mount, ready to dive. My boy
hesitates, walks back to the official, who looks momentarily confused, and
hands them something. What is he doing?
My husband leans in: ‘Did he just lose a tooth?’
Surely
not.
He scrambled into place, casually dived in
on the starters gun, and swam his 50 metres in his usual methodical style.
I excitedly congratulated him when he got
out of the pool: ‘What did you hand to the lady?’
‘My molar dropped out.’ He shrugged. ‘It
was pretty uncomfortable, and I had heaps of blood in my mouth’.
Okay…..
(Maybe he has a future as a boxer?)
I can honestly say that I’ve never had to
collect a molar (now in a plastic drink bottle) from a timing official before.
I was unsure about the protocol – do I thank her for her willingness to handle my offspring’s saliva?
There are moments as a parent that make you
marvel at the strength and unblemished simplicity of a child’s heart. Their
courage can be humbling; their matter-of-fact approach to dealing with a
potential meltdown-inducing situation can be inspiring.
Man, I love that kid.
And he
loved that he came home with a swag of ribbons. He had a huge grin: ‘I wish we
could have this day every day.’
