Saturday morning, we all walked up the block to attend Elijah’s first Karate class. Putting this child into martial arts has been a dream of mine since before he was born. Because I have a long list of people I need beaten up. Watch your back, Leonard Nimoy!
When we entered the Dojo (by “Dojo” I mean “anteroom next to the ice rink”) we discovered class was already in session. A surprisingly un-medicated blackbelt was leading a group of 4-6 year olds through a series of exercises. He beaconed Eli to join the other kids.
Elijah was overcome by a sudden, and intense shyness. He refused to leave the shelter of Diana’s legs for the entire class. I avoided my desire to hiss how much this was costing by giving Luca a tour of the ice rink (when he becomes the next Brian Boitano, I get full credit).
An hour later, Elijah and I drove to the library only to stop twice along the way so he could roll down his window and talk to people on the sidewalk.
The first woman responded to his “HI! MY NAME IS ELI!” with, “Do I know you?”
He gleefully responded, “No!”
Later, we pulled over to say hi to two hipsters smoking cigarettes. At first, they refused to acknowledge the kid who was shouting from a carseat. But I refused to move the car until one of them recognized cute little boys do exist in their dumb hipster world. Finally, one gestured hello with his cigarette. I did not give him the finger.
So which is it? Is this kid painfully shy or a huge ham? Or maybe there is a third choice. That kids are complicated and aren’t so easily placed into categories and maybe I shouldn’t devote so much time to labeling him.
I’m going to go with ham.
2 comments:
Maybe your building has a kind japanese handyman that can teach him karate.
I was thinking Luca would be more of a Jeremy Roenick or Chis Chelios type of skater.
Post a Comment