Tetherball

Yesterday morning we got a call from the school secretary.  She wanted to tell us what happened that day before school started.

She had heard a ruckus out on the playground and peeked around the corner to see what the commotion was all about. That's when she saw a big group of kids standing together.  So she decided she better head out and see exactly what was going on.  When she got outside she heard the kids chanting "Abby.  Abby. Abby."

This is where I perk up.  Hmmm?  A school-yard chant?  For Abby.  And not just any old Abby but my Abby?

Abby. Abby. Abby.

Could it get any better?  This is what dreams are made of.  I smiled to myself. Then I closed my eyes and listened again. 

Abby. Abby. Abby.

 Abby was playing tether ball and she was queen of the court.  That's right.  Queen. Girls stood no chance.  Neither did the boys. She was taking down bigger, taller boys one by one by one.


At this point I'm grinning broadly.  I've never been prouder. In fact, I'm so proud that I'm reminiscing.  And I remember myself at the tether ball courts beating the boys.  Take that Rhett Lucero, the school yard bully who got his thrills from tormenting the twins.  While we're at it, take that Mrs. Lucero, Rhett's overprotective playground teacher-mother who at one time forbade myself, my twin sister and our best friend from playing together.  Ever again. That's right.  I haven't forgotten.  She was also the one who sent me to the "corner table", aka, the naughty table, for accidently tripping a boy in my class.  I was humiliated.  And righteously indignant.

 I was recently telling Abby stories of my elementary school years and Mrs. Lucero came up.  I had no idea that Mrs. Lucero was still around and that Abby had in fact had her just last year as a computer lab teacher.  She did  not get good reviews from Abby.  I wonder why, Mrs. You-can-never-play-with-your-best-friends-ever-again- Lucero.  Anyway, I'm off subject.

Let's get back to where we were going.

Abby. Abby. Abby.

Abby was doing me proud.  And when she came home that day from school I asked her all about it.  She beat "20 boys".  Or something like that.  Half the school was surrounding her watching and cheering.  But they weren't always chanting for her.  Later on in the recess they started rooting for the opponent when it became clear that Abby was dominating. 

Ahem.  Well, this is not exactly what dreams are made of. More like you against the whole wide world.  But, everyone does love an underdog.  Understandable.  (Unless you happen to be the champions mother, that is.)

That's when I picked up on a little nugget of humility.  "Well mom, I can beat most of the boys. Except Dominic.  He's in kindergarten and he's GOOD. He comes up to about right here on me (Abby points to her belly button) but like I said, he's gooooood. "

Wait. What?  Kindergarten?  As in 2 years younger than you? Like Brooklyn's age? And the size of a peanut?!!

At that moment my dreams were shattered.  Thoughts of elevators, ropies, and holdies left.  Ideas of a tether ball court in my backyard crumbled away.

"Anyways Mom, I can't spend too much time playing tetherball or the horseclub will kick me out.  I'm only allowed to play the first recess. Come on Lily!!  Yeehaw!"

And away she rode.