I played good tennis this glorious weekend, despite of my tender right wrist hurt while making my little tables. I know .. I know .. complaining shows character flaw and .. but I’ve been making ado with it and hopefully get over it soon. My buddies are pretty sick by now that every time we play, I have use of one part of body, could only play either forehand or backhand.
What the most masmezing time came on Saturday, was not that the four sets William and I won, (that too was great but I shouldn’t take any credit) but I played with Pumpkin afterward.
I went home after the morning game, had breakfast and went out again with her. As we were warming up, I noticed she has far better control by the mid court or near the net than before. We could rally for a long time, often 20 strokes or so. After an hour or so, she called it quit. We sat down, had water and then she asked,
“Have I improved?”
It might just be what it is, that she wanted to know if she has improved from the last time we played. But what immediately creep into my mind was what I told her when she first got into it.
Couple of years ago, she just got to know Sharon (but before they ever played) and asked how she measures up to the Ace. Being tactless, I replied in my most famous way,
“She’s much better player ..”
At the time, she showed nothing just took it in. I forgot the moment all together. Till this Saturday.
Lord, What did I do to my kid, I asked myself silently. I felt sick and wanted to kick myself. Should I answer it with bit more sensitivity? Absolutely. Was I able to answer it with pride and encouragement while convey the truth? Well, if I try little harder, I might, 20% chance .. .. On the brighter side of the equation – although I sometime feel sorry for my kids that they got a lousy deal from me .. but nevertheless, I love them very much, and very proud of them – that they’re experiencing the real life, starting right at home. Might not be too bad after all.
Hey, I got to make myself feel good, right? On the expense of my kids? That’s bad. Parents on both side of Pacific Ocean are busy driving their little ones to somewhere and do something, while Irene is busy with her own thing. Lousy and selfish mom.