Hittin’ the bullseye
We were driving through town one day when they noticed a sign on the corner.
Signup at the YMCA
The first class was last night. Afterwards they both exclaimed, “I LOOOOOOOOOVE archery!”
I was very, very happy.
When I was their age, my parents shipped me off to a wonderful, week-long church camp. We selected activities at sign-up. I check-marked the box for archery. And this is true …
I clearly remember my mother saying,
“Archery … really?”
And she never told me what it was.
I didn’t know.
Until I found out.
I was terrified.
Probably because I wasn’t very athletically inclined and was at that awkward and embarrassed stage in girlhood and didn’t like to fail, so every day after horseback riding I pleaded a stomach ache and never ever went to the dreaded archery lessons with all of the boys who had signed up.
I had issues.
I did overcome them.
I was required to take two credits of physical education in college. Remember I said not athletically inclined. So I did what seemed safe. I signed up for badminton — which I was good at — and because I wanted to conquer my childhood demons, I faced archery.
And loved it.
In fact, I beat all of the girls in the final competition and all but one on the boys’ team. He beat me by an inch. I ranked second place in the class. I was very proud. Still am. Obviously I still have issues!
Now here we are, 15 years later.
They can’t wait until next week. And my oldest daughter who excels at academics and sometimes feels inferior to her younger, competitive and naturally athletic sister
exclaimed with all of the excitement and relief a nine-year-old can muster
“Mommy, I’m really good at this!”
Funny how life always comes full circle, isn’t it?
The instructor promised to make them arrows with pink feathers.