Dodge Ball Daddy

Day 324

The little dark-haired boy bows off the karate mat and pulls his dad into the circle to play.  The dad, a shy man who speaks with a foreign lilt, holds the boy’s younger brother in his arms and struggles to balance the child while simultaneously being dragged back onto the padded floor.

A. recently started taking bi-weekly karate lessons.  Each class consists of karate instruction, a game and a talk on a character trait.  These little talks are worth the monthly tuition price. 

“We’re going to play a game where you’ll need to exhibit self-control,” A.’s karate instructor explains. “Can anyone tell me what self-control is?” 

“Doing what your mom says?” one offers.  His answer lifts up as a question. 

“Doing what you should,” another says with more confidence.

“Not hitting your brother?” A few parents watching from the chairs chuckle at this.  I don’t because I know the truth behind the statement.  It’s my son who gives it.     

“Yes to all of those,” she smiles.  “Self-control is the ability to control your own behavior.  When we play this game, you’ll have to use self-control to make sure no one gets hurt.  Understand?” she asks looking the kids in the eyes.  “We’re going to be playing dodge ball.” All the kids cheer.   

I tap the dad holding the infant on the shoulder.  “Excuse me.”  Tap.  Tap.  “Can I please hold your baby?”  Because you’re playing dodge ball.  With a baby.   

He looks at me with an odd expression.  I’ve seen him twice a week for the last month but we haven’t really talked. 

I don’t think that’s important.  What is will be his introduction to the American tradition of dodge ball.  With a baby.   

“The baby?” I ask again and hold out my arms. 

If he’s thinking it’s not a good idea to hand his baby to a stranger, he changes his mind when the first ball flies past.  He quickly hands me the child then uses both free hands to protect his head from an incoming.