A sporting chance 

Tomorrow is my 3 year old sons’ sports day at school. I’ve asked what they will be doing but he’s not been very helpful; ‘Sack race?’ Blank stare. ‘Three legged race?’ Blank stare. And so on and so on. He also told me it had already taken place, and then we found out it was a practice. Little shit.

Anyway, this morning I gave him the parental pep talk. The one about it not mattering whether he wins, as long as he tries his best and has fun. I felt we had to have this talk as he was boasting about winning, but is the youngest in the year so I fear this is unlikely. Unless they had a Power Rangers style fighting bout, in which case he’d kick ass.

After the pep talk he gave me the blank stare. He knew I didn’t mean it. We race at everything – getting dressed, eating, going upstairs, putting toys away. I channel his competitive edge to get him to cooperate! And its something he’s inherited from me. I’ve always been incredibly competitive and a terrible loser, perhaps because I was the oldest child, or the youngest in the year myself, or because I’m a Leo. Winning feels good, doesn’t it? Succeeding and reaching your goal? So yes, I’ll keep telling my son to have fun and that winning doesn’t matter – but I’ll always encourage him to try. 


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