Tonight I played driveway hockey with a four year old. I was the goalie. He was representing the entire Tampa Bay Lightning. He was scoring on more than 50% of his shots. Truth is, I’m scared of his shot. He looked at me rather consolingly and said – it’s ok you’re not a great goalie, it’s because you’re a woman. I was stunned. All in one moment I was angry and embarrassed and horrified and saddened. I was sure it was nothing he had heard in my house. After all, I am the one who taught him: God is great, God is good and we thank HER for this food. For a split second I was angry at his daycare, then the daycare friends, then television, then his books, then his toys. I was SURE there was someone to blame. Though I still point a finger at TSN, I’m taking the experience as a wake-up call. In some ways I’d like to control everything that enters into his lightning-fast mind (yes, yes, there are therapists aplenty for that!), but that’s not the way it works and I have to come to terms with that. Somehow.
I looked back at him, pushing back my tears quite literally and said: Ever hear of Kim St-Pierre??