If you happen to run into me this week, you might notice that I am unable to concentrate on our conversation. That my eyes dart around, unfocused, uneasy. At my temples you may detect a thin film of perspiration. It's because I am panicked. I am panicked because I have an image in my mind that will not recede. It is of Risa and Vida entering kindergarten next Fall as two grossly under-accomplished little girls.
You see, all around me kids are either on their way to, late for, just got home from, or about to sign-up for...Soccer! T-ball! Art! Piano! Violin! Basketball! Swimming! Karate! Gymnastics! Tap! Ballet! And, for all I know, quantum physics, Esperanto, and ornamental horticulture. One family around the corner has their two children signed up for nine different activities. My kids? My kids mostly just hang out with me. And if it counts for anything, they generally display superlative table manners.
Anyways, at this age I thought it was best to restrict "enrichment"-type business to one class a season per kid. But now I'm thinking maybe I've just been too lazy to drive them around. Is this true?! I can't quite tell. And so to right my (possible) wrongs, I've spent some time this past week putting them on waiting lists for this and that. Peer pressure. I love it.
In the meantime, I will take comfort in one small fact: Risa and Vida reign supreme at RoShamBo* and are not too shy to prove it. Hopefully, this will be enough to separate them from the pack.
*We used to call it "Jack 'n' Poy" when we were kids, but a casual glance around the Web reveals that this is probably just a hilarious misunderstanding of the Japanese "Jan Ken Pon." "Jack 'n' Poy" sounds so Filipino-ish, though, doesn't it?
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