My children were magnetically drawn to the punching bags at Alex's new Dojo. I wish I had my camera ready, because it was just so perfect. Im pretty sure had I not pulled them all off the punching bags, one would have been taken out by the punching bags, just like the moth when it gets too close to the flame.
Alex had Grappling today, he alternates between that and striking. At least that is my current understanding, I could be totally way off on that. The words The Hubs spoke never really penetrated that evening.
Now, it helps to know that there is no Jolly Green Giant DNA floating about in either The Hubs or I. And well, Alex did not hit the genetic lottery when it comes to coordination, or athletic anything. He is that kid that looks like a bobble head on the peewee football team, who can barely stand up right, when fully padded up. Oh who am I kidding. He is the kid on the peewee football team that has absolutely no business being on the field at any given time. And yet, for 3 years, it was the ONLY sport he was willing to play.
The Hubs finally convinced him that he should at least TRY something else. And then signed him up for Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.
And today was his first class. Granted, yesterday was supposed to be his first class. But again, when the The Hubs spoke and gave me directions, the words they did not penetrate. In my defense.... OK, at this time I really don't have a defense. The Hubs just started talking about martial arts, and I couldn't keep my attention.
So, back to Alex.....
Today was his first class. As he meets the teacher, he tells him straight out. "I'm small and kind of puny. So, Ill suck at this." What can I say, he doesn't boast much optimism either, he is more of a realist.
The Instructor then tried to convince Alex that Jiu Jitsu would be perfect for him, because small dudes are often better at it than big dudes. Alex just said "OK" and settled into the group.
And this interaction continues on.
I think the instructor was hoping he could kind of boost Alex's moral. He really engaged him in conversation, and I am pretty sure now, that dude is sitting back and downing a beer as he attempts to wrap his brain around that conversation. It goes a little something like this....
Instructor: "so what other sports have you played?"
Alex: "I played Football and Soccer"
Instructor: "Oh? Which did you like most?"
Alex: "Football, I only played Soccer because my Mom made me."
Instructor: "So, what position did you play in Football?"
Alex: "the one where they put me in front of a really big dude and then tell me to knock him down"
Instructor: Long perplexing pause "uh well was that offense or defense?"
Alex: "Defense, because usually I just ended up holding onto him while he dragged me"
That was about when the Instructor decided it was time to change the subject.
From then on, it was relatively awkward to watch. Alex having no experience whatsoever, usually just went limp when he was supposed to engage. And when he needed to go limp, would stiffen up like a brick wall. And then there was distinguishing his left from his right, and back from front, and up from down.... He was having fun though, you could tell because he wasn't complaining about how much it sucked.
And then came the wrist moves, which Alex took too immediately. Something in his little brain just clicked, and he knew exactly what he was supposed to do and how. And with in about half a moment, he had a kid a head taller than him on the ground and saying "OK YOU CAN STOP NOW PLEASE!"
This pleased Alex enough that he started with that smirk of his. It is his "Im pleased" smirk, he tries to hide it because he is convinced he must maintain a dark and sinister demeanor.
At the end of class his instructor asked if he enjoyed the class. Alex's response was "Yeah, I liked it well enough, Ill be back....." Which translated into English would be "I had a lot of fun, and may just become obsessed."
I guess it helps to understand that Alex is instinctively sarcastic and pessimistic. Lastweek I made Dinner, and Alex told Moops that my Food was not nearly as bad as hospital food. That was his way of telling me he liked Dinner that night. He inherited this lovely trait from his Dad, who is also the master of a Back Handed Compliment.
Chicken Bone Broth
7 years ago
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