The Pinewood Derby

There's this Boy Scout tradition of carving race cars out of wood and racing them on tracks set up in school cafeterias across America. This is known as the Pinewood Derby.

Ry and Phil worked for weeks on his car...it had custom decals and a hand-painted coat as shiny and bright as Ry's hopes for victory.

The night of the Derby came and Ry was excited but nervous at the same time. Before they left Ry took this picture with his car while giving the Boy Scout salute. Can't you just see the eye of the tiger?



So about an hour after they left I received this dreaded text message from Phil: "OMG. He just came in last place 3 times and is currently crying."

I paced the floors trying to rack my brains for how to comfort him when he came home. Things like - "You gave it your best shot" or "Winning isn't everything" or "There's always next year."

In the midst of all this pacing I received another text from Phil: "Some other kid named Ryan won 3rd place. So our Ryan thought they meant him and jumped up and took the award. So pretty much problem solved."

[These are the actual texts - I couldn't make this stuff up].

As a parent I'm torn on many levels. (A) What about poor other-Ryan who has no award? (B) Our Ryan now thinks he's the bomb and is sleeping with the ribbon. (C) The kid needs to learn that sometimes he's going to come in last place.

So now I'm confused. And tired. And dreading next year's Pinewood Derby. And sort of laughing about this whole thing. Then feeling guilty for laughing.

Welcome to my world!

Coley, Defined.

My dear, sweet, headstrong Cole. No one's going to tell him how to have his fun.

Exhibit A: At the end of a recent Cub Scout hayride, there was a big bonfire. Everyone gathered round to toast marshmallows and have a Coombaya kinda night. Cole, instead, sat on this here log.


Exhibit B: During a recent trip to the zoo the lion was feeling photogenic and plopped himself right in front of the viewing window. Charlie, Ryan, and Dean were understandably glued to the glass. Cole, on the other hand, was too busy reading the zoo map to notice.


Exhibit C: Tonight he had a choice: let me cut his nails or sit in Time Out. He chose to sit in time out for almost an hour, and finally relented with: "Oh fine - I'll let you cut my nails now."

Raising this child takes lots of deep breaths...but his nails are cut. Oh yes, his nails are cut (a.k.a. I won.)