In one of her rare appearances at home (in-between work, school and social engagements our house has become merely a pit-stop of late), I had a brief few minutes to spend with daughter. Somehow our conversation veered off onto the subject of the upcoming Winter Olympics in Vancouver:
Me: "So, did you hear that a Winnipegger will be the flag bearer at the Olympics?"
Her: "Nope. Who?"
Me: "Clara Hughes. She has won medals at both the Summer and Winter Games."
Her: "For what?"
Me: "Cycling and speed skating."
Her: "Oh good. I was afraid you were going to say Curling."
Me: "Hey! I was a Curler you know! Came fourth in the Provincials one year." (Yep, I pull that little fact out whenever I can.... which, sadly, is nearly never.)
Her: "I know, that just proves it's not a sport."
Her: * smirk *
Me: "So you're calling me un-athletic?"
Her: "You say that all the time! I'm just agreeing with you."
I hate to admit it, but she's right... about me, that is. I am terrible at sports. If there were medals awarded for being the worst in athletics, I would indeed capture the Gold.
And then I would proceed to take a header off the podium.
Oh sure, I was in the Provincial playoffs, but unfortunately my most memorable Curling experience was when I went flying on the ice in a SPEC-TAC-U-LAR free-fall and landed flat on my butt.
In front of an audience, natch.
Luckily only my pride was hurt... I got up and continued to play, desperately trying to keep anyone from noticing the tears welling up in my eyes.
* Sigh *
I guess I will never have Olympic Dreams.
But I do rock the snazzy mitts.
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