"Are we almost finished?" My son whines on our walk. Today was an unusual fall Saturday, a Saturday with no plans. Football practice was cancelled and since my son was on a three day school trip, we did not make any other plans in fear he will be tired. It being such a nice day, we decided to take a nice walk in the park that runs along the river. My son was not to receptive to the idea, but we made it fun for him, doing funny walks, small games of tag, and singing songs as we walk along. One of the incentives offered as a bribe was that we would get pizza for lunch after we walked for at least an hour. After we finished the walk and enjoyed a slice of pizza at our favorite place in town, we made our way home. As we walk home, my son's tired body gave way to a tired mind. You can see his whole body language change from happy to sluggish, to a crawl as we round the corner to our apartment building. We planned on going over to the school to watch the varsity football game, but by the time we enter our apartment, my son's body is on empty. He takes off his hoodie and stumbles into his room and sits on his bed, looking emotionally raw. You can always tell when my son is beyond tired because the more you ask him if he is tired, the more he insists he is not. He can barely keep his eyes open but will will never just say he is tired. " The most you will get out of him is "A little..." which to my wife and I translates into "Yes I am very tired, but I will never admit it."
I decide to go over to the game anyway, because if I leave for an hour or so that might quiet him down enough to rest, and I did really want to see the game. I stay at the game for about an hour and a half and once I saw that the game was well in our favor (they were up by 21 points with two minutes to go) I walk home. I hang up my jacket and enter my son's room. My son's face looks rested, and he feels better . I am glad he recovered and realize I am a bit tired now and want to relax. That is when my son asks me if I want to go to the field to throw the football around. I look up at him from the chair I just planted myself in and reply "Sure, let me get my jacket."
We play at the field for a little over an hour and as it gets close to darkness, I plead with my son to head home. After a few "Just one more pass." and a few grunts, he agrees to leave the field and go home. At 8:30 my son goes to bed, a half an hour earlier and quickly falls asleep. I finally hit the chair, body sore from a very active free day.
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