When Your Kid Is A Perfectly Fine Loser

When Your Kid Is A Perfectly Fine Loser

As my son came off the ice yesterday following his hockey game, he looked at Mark and me, shrugged up one shoulder a bit and gave a, “meh, what are you gonna do?” expression.

They’d lost another game - they've had plenty of experience losing this season, which has been hard on the team’s morale.  

Except for my child’s.

He still comes off the ice with a smile.

It drives Mark insane.  

“It would be nice if he was just a little more competitive,” he’ll say.

The Problem With My Husband

I love my child.  I do.  My love for him far surpasses the hatred he has for writing.  And he has a deep, dark hatred for writing.

Bizarre irony, don't you think, considering his mother has a desperate, twisted love for writing?

He's in second grade, now.  In kindergarten, I'd get calls from the teacher saying my son gets distracted during writing practice, and doesn't get his work done.  We chalked it up to his age. 

And the fact that he's a boy.  The maturity thing, you know: boys mature slower than girls, blahblahblah.