Sports
"It's too hot," Declan whined at the first practice.
"It's too cold," he whined at the last.
In between, my four-year-old son proffered every excuse in the book for why he couldn't play soccer that day, despite having begged me to sign him up for it. His socks were falling down. His jersey was too big. He didn't want to play.
But I wouldn't let him quit.
"You have to finish the season," I told him. "You don't have to play ever again, but you have to honor your commitment."
We suffered through that season, me getting angry, him getting upset, and for about twenty minutes each week he'd actually get out there and play, running after the ball with a huge grin on his face.
I have no illusions about Declan's athletic ability, or lack thereof. He's small and skinny, prefers tuxedos to track suits, and would sooner run a puppet show than run a mile. But I still want him to be active and learn to play team sports. I want him to have fun. And I think he will have fun, if he just gives the sport a chance. How can he possibly know he doesn't like the game if he doesn't give it a chance?
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