Monday, May 15, 2006
DODGEBALL
Yesterday morning I overheard my 6 year old son, Seth, talking to his 8 year old brother, Ben. He said he wanted to play dodgeball - that he was good at it. Inside, a part of me cringed, thinking back to my elementary school days when I was usually picked last, and targeted first. I can still remember the red, rubber ball that would come whizzing by me, eventually hitting me in the back, the arm, the leg, oh the sting!
At the same time, there was this overwhelming urge to put my hand into a fist, and bring my arm down and scream "yes!" My son was going to be one of the kids who was good at dodgeball, not a victim or a target, but a serious player. I was jubliant, in the way that only a parent who is able to live vicariously through their child can be, and only slightly guilty thinking about the other poor kids who would become his targets.
A few minutes later I some music, and my husband, Gary, asking the kids what that noise was, and to please turn it down. Out of the kitchen, near the computer the kids use, I heard Ben say, "don't worry about it - it's only dodgeball!"
So dodgeball is now a computer game, one where the only balls that get thrown are on the computer screen, and nobody ever gets hurt. What progress we have made!
After I related this little anecdote to Gary, he proceeded to tell me that dodgeball has made a comeback, and that grownups all over are playing it. Apparently, there is even a National Dodgeball League. I sort of like the idea of taking all the kids who were victimized, and getting them together to pick off the kids that teased them when they were younger. Maybe throwing that red rubber ball at them now would somehow make up for all the times that I had my feelings hurt as a child. Or maybe I'll just go play on the computer!
Yesterday morning I overheard my 6 year old son, Seth, talking to his 8 year old brother, Ben. He said he wanted to play dodgeball - that he was good at it. Inside, a part of me cringed, thinking back to my elementary school days when I was usually picked last, and targeted first. I can still remember the red, rubber ball that would come whizzing by me, eventually hitting me in the back, the arm, the leg, oh the sting!
At the same time, there was this overwhelming urge to put my hand into a fist, and bring my arm down and scream "yes!" My son was going to be one of the kids who was good at dodgeball, not a victim or a target, but a serious player. I was jubliant, in the way that only a parent who is able to live vicariously through their child can be, and only slightly guilty thinking about the other poor kids who would become his targets.
A few minutes later I some music, and my husband, Gary, asking the kids what that noise was, and to please turn it down. Out of the kitchen, near the computer the kids use, I heard Ben say, "don't worry about it - it's only dodgeball!"
So dodgeball is now a computer game, one where the only balls that get thrown are on the computer screen, and nobody ever gets hurt. What progress we have made!
After I related this little anecdote to Gary, he proceeded to tell me that dodgeball has made a comeback, and that grownups all over are playing it. Apparently, there is even a National Dodgeball League. I sort of like the idea of taking all the kids who were victimized, and getting them together to pick off the kids that teased them when they were younger. Maybe throwing that red rubber ball at them now would somehow make up for all the times that I had my feelings hurt as a child. Or maybe I'll just go play on the computer!
