Learning to deal with disappointment
This boy of mine has always surprised me with the intensity he applies to things that interest him. I think it’s a fairly standard boy M.O. – when he likes something, he is nearly obsessed with it. One year it was super heroes. Another, trucks. For a couple years we were into sharks – I know a lot of random facts about sharks and large water mammals because of that phase. This year? This year his obsession is Notre Dame Football.
He read and cut out newspaper articles about ND football. He picked favorite players (Manti Te’o and Kapron Lewis-Moore). He watched the Heisman Award show and cried at the results.
So last night, when Notre Dame played for the National Championship, he was excited. To quote him, “I’ve been good *all day* just so you’d let me watch this game.” We had toyed with the idea of letting him stay up far past his bedtime for this game. After all, what’s one tired day to build a memory?
Then the game started. Then we were scoreless at halftime. He was in a remarkably decent mood about it – convinced that his Irish would come back in the second half. His father and I were not so convinced. I told him he needed to go to bed at halftime. He was devastated. I told him I would record the second half so he could watch it the next day. But it wasn’t until I solemnly swore to wake him up if Notre Dame tied the game that he hung his head and gave up the fight.
I wish I would have had the excuse to wake him up. He would have loved every minute of watching a Notre Dame win and celebration. Instead, when he sleepily comes down the stairs in a bit, I’m going to have to tell him that his team had a great season but couldn’t pull out the big win.
It’s going to be a sad day in this house.