Embarrassment

Three weeks into the four-week itty-bitty soccer season, I was mortified.  Three and four year-olds in the very friendly, indoor, three-on-three no-score-kept league were spinning around, running from the ball, running to the ball, picking up the ball and generally having a good time, and there Dianthus was, dribbling the ball down the "field" and shooting it into the goal, following through if necessary.  He was great.  He stopped the ball when the other team kicked it at him (causing one of them to stomp her feet with indignation) and converted it to a goal.  He couldn't come out for long; too many of his teammates were sitting with parents refusing to play and we couldn't tell him not to do exactly what he was supposed to be doing.
So he ran the ball down the field again, shot again, and scored again.  Over and over.
The other parents cheered.
My mother, having never seen me score a goal in ten years of soccer games, was dumbfounded.
I was embarrassed.
Next year I hope he'll have some good competition.

I don't remember being embarrassed about being associated with good skill.  I'd been embarrassed for somebody losing badly or who is completely outclassed.  I was embarrassed for the girl in the state 4-H demonstration contest who brought a cheering entourage that kept getting more and more excited as the announcer counted down from 10th place and her name hadn't been called. I felt sorry for them as they were congratulating her after the runner-up was announced (still not her) and plenty awkward as I walked past them to accept my champion prize, but I wasn't embarrassed that I gave a great demonstration.
With Dianthus and soccer, I felt guilty running into one of the other soccer moms at the park.

Dianthus had an end of the year preschool performance last week.  He sang and danced and recited four pledges.  You'll be pleased to note that, based on his four-year-old self, he is not one of those annoying people who is a great athlete and the star of the show.
Next year I hope he'll clap at least in the right line, if not actually on the right beat.

[In addition to showing of his fetching "Stars" soccer shirt, the photos are serving as bonus phenology records featuring our new figs and kiwi. Those images were taken April 5].  Nothing today about strokes or Aster, but feel free to stop by CHASA and learn more.