Grasping the Opportunity

As my son and I sped along highway 71, homeward bound, at midnight, under the guidance of a brilliant half-moon (so bright I lowered the sun visor), after spending the entire day at the GymMasters Invitational gymnastics meet in Houston, my son's incessant stream of excited chatter silenced as sleep, having bided its time, finally pounced and held the boy snug in its clutches, my own body heavy with the fatigue that can only come from 8 hours of bleacher-sitting ... this is what I was thinking:

That was SO TOTALLY WORTH IT.

Here's what was supposed to happen. The boy and I (just the 2 of us because my daughter had a stomach bug) drive to Houston on Friday, spend the night, Jared competes on Saturday morning, we have lunch with my sister-in-law, and then we head back to Austin, home by4:00pm. A compact, sensible plan.

However, upon arriving at the meet, at the door I was asked if I would like to go ahead and purchase a ticket (at a discount, no less) for that night's competition featuring Jonathan Horton, member of the 2008 olympic bronze medal winning U.S. Men's Gymnastics Team, olympic silver medalist in high bar, 2009 Visa National Champion, AND my son's gymnastics idol. I said, "I'm not sure. Can I get back to you?"

After considering it for a little while and then calling my husband to discuss the matter, I had an epiphany. You know how Oprah has those "aha" moments? Well, mine was more of a "duh" moment.

OF COURSE I would like to purchase a ticket (at a discount) to see Jonathan Horton, member of the 2008 olympic bronze medal winning U.S. Men's Gymnastics Team, olympic silver medalist in high bar, 2009 Visa National Champion, AND my son's gymnastics idol, compete tonight. Duh.

It didn't matter that it meant sitting on hard metal bleachers all the livelong day. It didn't matter that it meant hanging around a Barnes & Noble on a sketchy street somewhere in Houston for 2 hours, just to kill time (I say this like it wasn't fun - in truth, hanging out at a bookstore with my son is a pretty darn good time.) It didn't matter that it meant dinner was an overpriced slice of Dominoes pizza and an overpriced coke. It didn't matter that it meant getting back home at 1:00 o'clock in the morning. I mean, how many times will a kid have the opportunity to see his gymnastics idol rock the high bar from less than 10 feet away? Just imagine if you had the chance to see your gymnastics idol, but your mom said, "I know we're already here and everything, but I just don't feel like sitting in this gym all day and I'd really rather get home this afternoon so I can sit on my cushy couch and do my crossword puzzle." That mom is lame.

So, not only did he get to SEE his gymnastics idol rock the high bar (and rings and parallel bars and pommel horse), he got to MEET him.
I believe the words, "dream come true" were uttered.

And something about the 2016 Olympics.