To Be (a Nerd) or Not to Be (a Nerd)

Both boys were invited to compete this week in … not a judo tryout … not a basketball shootoff … not a 100 metre sprint … not even an X-box Halo competition … no they were invited to compete in a spelling bee.

When Oldest Son told me, I had one of those moments where (as a guy) you have a couple of thoughts fly through your head from different parts of your psyche and collide somewhere in the middle of your brain, preventing action, whereupon a third aspect of your psyche opens up and tells you “Well? Say something, the kid’s waiting.”

One thought said: “Spelling Bee. Booooooooring.” (That thought kinda sounded like Homer Simpson a little)

The other said: “Wow. My boys got asked to compete; that’s cool.”

SMASH. They collided. They canceled each other out and the third aspect of Pete Aldin said to him that thing about responding to the child before him. So I spoke.

“Interesting.” (Oh, nice start, hoser). “So how do you feel about that?” (Mm, life-coach hat on; kind of a copout but better).

“I dunno if I wanna do it,” says Oldest Son (12). “I kind of do and I kind of don’t”

“Sooooooooo,” I begin, playing for thinking time, “why don’t you wanna do it?”

“Well, I actually do want to do it, but I don’t want to win.” He pauses, gives me a huge toothy grin and I get it. The unspoken message crosses the ether and lands intact in my head: I don’t want to be seen as a nerd.

I chuckle empathetically (you know: laughing with not at). “Well, whatever you decide, I’m with you, bud.”

So both boys decide to do it. Wednesday night they do it. (Coincidentally and ironically, this is the night that Super Dad here is out facilitating a Dads Group in the local community instead of there at the Spelling Bee. So I’m not there. Great modelling huh? Again one voice is chastising me for missing it, the other is trying to give itself a highfive for getting out of it).

And both boys do pretty well. I could give you a blow by blow account (as given to me by Mrs Freakedout Father) if you really wanted … oh, you don’t. Ok then. I’ll cut to the punchline.

Upon our next meeting, (breakfast Thursday morning) I ask “How’d it go, champ?”

“Pretty good,” he responds proudly. He goes on to tell me that he got the outcome he wanted, coming fourth in the competition. See, fourth is a great result: it says “I’m smart but I didn’t win, so I’m not a nerd.”

A father couldn’t ask for more from a son.