This afternoon was Matthew's first (ever) skating lesson. He arrived at the arena armed with brand new Lightning McQueen skates, a black hockey helmet with a cage to protect his face, and bucket loads of confidence. Shortly before we left the house for the arena, he commented that he was sure that he was going to be a better skater than his coach, even, and that he was ready to play hockey for the big teams...the NHL. I said that this sounded great, and that in order to get to that goal he may want to focus during the first lesson on learning how to just stand up on the ice. He responded by asking if I thought he would get any penalties today; when we arrived at the rink, he wanted to know where the penalty box was.
Well, fast forward about thirty minutes...past the point where he'd fallen and gotten back up no less than three or four dozen times, and past the point where the coach finally and mercifully gave him a big orange pylon to help him get up after his splaying legs had sent him crashing back down yet again...the first thing he said to me when he got coach-lifted off the ice was this: "Well, mom, I'm not so sure that hockey is going to be the sport for me."
Oh well...I guess a little reality check is needed by all of us at times!