There’s something about raising stubbornly defiant boys that leaves you a little scarred. Yes, they’ve matured and yes, there has been tremendous growth in their public behavior. However, T.Puzzle is still testing the waters of maturity. He absolutely has improved a lot behavior wise and because of this, my trust in his choices is tentatively growing. This trust is shaky and it doesn’t take much for me to jump to the worst conclusions.
Today, when his basketball camp coach pulled me aside, my heart froze just a little. In a matter of seconds my mind raced to a myriad of scenarios. Maybe he finally injured someone in his rather ungraceful attempts to steal the ball. Maybe he lost control and karate kicked an instructor in the leg. Maybe he screamed, cried and threw the mother of all tantrums.
No. It wasn’t any of these. He claimed his stomach hurt and needed to sit out a drill or two (my guess is they were ones he didn’t really like anyway.).
I rejoiced. Yay! My son has gastrointestinal issues!
After I regained composure, I felt slightly guilty that I was so pleased he felt unwell. Thankfully, the guilt was as fleeting as T.Puzzle’s imagined stomach upset.