Thursday, July 23, 2009

running for respect

I was having dinner with the kids a couple nights ago when Donovan started in on his regular barrage of questions: How fast does a bear run? How fast do foxes run? How fast does a caterpillar run? How fast does... and so forth. Speed has become very important to him. Perhaps that is why he formed the cheetah club. Except that then he said it was the cheetah and tiger club, maybe the big cat equivalent of a big and tall store, because clearly just big wouldn't cut it? Then when Joel said he would join this exclusive club, Donovan informed him of club dues: $5. "Well, nevermind. I don't want to give you $5," Joel replied. Driving a hard bargain, Donovan said he didn't actually have to pay the money if he just signed a piece of paper. My dad is a contract lawyer, so we're pretty wary about what we sign, even from our 4-year-old son. In this case, however, it just had some dinosaur stamps (I neglected to point out the inconsistency of what his club was about and the representation on his stationery. Perhaps Joel can help him with some rebranding). Well played, Donovan.

Anyway, running. Naturally the conversation shifts to how fast and how strong Donovan is and suddenly he's quiet a moment before asking, "Mom? How far do you run?" I tell him usually 4-5 miles. "What's the most you've run?" Hmm. Five and a half or six miles? "And how far does daddy run?" This amuses me, because Joel doesn't run. Well, he ran a couple Saturdays ago, but honestly we were both surprised when he ran an entire mile without puking. So, being generous, I reply, "Um, one or two miles." Donovan's eyes got big and his mouth dropped open. Ainsleigh's fork stopped halfway to her mouth. Slowly, incredulously, Donovan asked, "YOU run faster than DADDY?!" I didn't say that - Daddy probably runs faster, but I run a lot farther and longer. Ainsleigh began to giggle and Donovan squeezed his eyes shut while slowly shaking his head back and forth and kind of laughing, like he was embarrassed for him, snorts, "Oh...DADDY! That is not good." At the same time, they looked at me with new appreciation. I tried to just brush it off, but I'm not gonna lie - I felt pretty awesome.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

You can compound Donovan's distress by telling him that his Grandma O rides her bike farther and (usually) faster than his grandpa. By the end of the day Saturday, she will have ridden 48, 44 and 65 miles on Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday, respectively. She's taking Friday off by going skiing and wakeboarding with her cycling sorority. I long for the days when women knew their place.

Dad

Nataluscious said...

I think I had something to say, and then I read your dad's comment. And now I'm just shaking my head and laughing (akin to Dono I presume).

You go Wanda. You go.

Hillary said...

I must be related to Joel...I only run for my life :) Your stories always make me smile- your a great writer and your kids are really going to love reading all of this someday.