Olympic Dreams

Edgar practices for the balance beam routine.
Edgar practices for the balance beam routine.

On any given day, Edgar hears the following phrase roughly forty-two times:  “Edgar, please be careful!”  His response is always the same–a sweet, sing-songy, “O-tay, Mommy.”  He consistently and gleefully acknowledges my wish that he be careful, and I feel he truly tries his best.  But being a toddler and possessing from deep within what I can only categorize as a desire to fly, Edgar moves in ways that ensure my hairdresser will stay in business.  Last night at Applebee’s after a long day at the Jazz Festival, we sat down at a booth that was surrounded by flat-screen television sets.  And on the TV set closest to us was the Olympics, specifically the Men’s Gymnastics event.  Edgar’s eyes grew even larger than they already are and began to glisten and glow in a way that is usually reserved for the presentation of a spectacular meal.  He watched these gymnasts–true paragrons of strength and grace–fly through the air on the pommel horse, still rings, and parallel bars and declared as though a curtain had just been lifted, “I want to do that!”  Of course he does.  These men can fly through the air, and their mommies are not there telling them to “be careful.”  (They’re probably in the stands whispering it to themselves, though, I am going to guess.)  Oscar said he was interested in participating in the Olympics, too–as a member of the audience!  So, Edgar has his cheering section ready and a mother who, no matter what he does, will always be whispering, “Be careful!” 

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