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The little stinker did it again

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DAD, WHY IS THE WORLD?

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This Saturday’s ice skating class was nothing to write home about. He skated. He fell. He rested. He scuttled on his hands and knees to the exit when the buzzer sounded.

Still, he was very excited about how well he skated. Were we at the same lesson? What? As I unlaced his skates and tugged them off his feet he asked me something quite profound. “Dad, why is the world? And why are we in it? And then a pause and then added the cherry on top, “And why is it spinning?”

“Conor, those are amazing questions. And you know what, nobody really knows the answers.” “Not even you, Dad?” And in that moment, I realized just how tall my son must think I am.

I laughed, “Nope, not even me, buddy. Now let’s go see how Mom’s doing.” And he ran out the locker room door to find mom. I gathered up his equipment and wondered who my boy will be when he grows up.
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CONOR IS READY FOR HOOPS

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At the beginning of the year, we joined the YMCA as a family. We started swimming lessons and soccer lessons. And this is where Conor was introduced to basketball as he'd walk to soccer class. He seemed especially connected to this so we stopped in the other day (during a birthday party at the Y) and he got to watch and even shoot a few baskets. I'm making a note to myself to get him a basketball hoop for the backyard as summer approaches.
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DAD GOES CURLING ON EASTER SUNDAY

For the last three Olympics, for some reason I have been fascinated by curling. I can be walking by the TV and if curling is on, I come to a screeching halt, sit on the couch and the next thing I know, a full hour has passed. Cryke! So last night when a group of us friends were out to dinner, our friend, Britt's husband announced that she had won a silver medal at the Curling Nationals recently. My ear perked up and she saw me flinch. She asked if I like curling. I admitted that I did. She then asked if I would like to try it. I could hardly believe my luck. Good things really do come to those that wait. At last my prayers had been answered and I was invited to go curling. Uh, with a silver medalist, mind you.So here it is, Easter Sunday, and while my wife and 5-month old son looked, I slid a red rock onto the ice. It weighs an incredible 40 lbs. and you're not supposed to pick it up.So I didn't. I uncomfortably squatted into a crouching position with a broom in one hand and the rock in the other. I pushed off with my right foot and launched myself onto the ice. I glided uncomfortably and wobbled uncontrollably. I pretty much stunk at it. But I'm not one to give up. So I tried again, this time I leaned on the rock to control my sense of balance. It was a disaster. I tumbled over and legs, arms and brooms went everywhere. I tried yet again, unrattled by what had gone before. I was sure after three Olympic watchings on TV, I could do this with some grace. The third time was the charm. I learned from my mistakes and as I pushed off the block, I remained in control, somewhat comfortable and pointed my rock for the house across the ice. I didn't tear up but I was pretty proud of myself. Coach Britt was impressed and for the next hour I got better and better. My son was crying because it was cold on the ice so my wife took him inside the clubhouse. That's why the only footage of my paradise on ice was the third attempt at curling.Coach Britt was pretty impressed and invited me back when curling resumes in October. I'm not sure if I'll continue this new sport, but I'm going to give it quite a lot of consideration. After all, there was a bar in the clubhouse that looked like it was stocked to the gills. And a fireplace to sip my sports drink(s) at the end of the glorious day.
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