My youngest, as I've alluded in an earlier entry, is a fiercely competitive child--who also happens to be a competitive swimmer. With that and the Olympian achievement of Michael Phelps in Beijing in mind, I share the following:
Last night my elder daughter returned home from the church youth group dinner to share how the older sister of another girl (as it happens, the young lady my younger son took to his senior prom) was at Williams Brice Stadium in Columbia, SC attending the USC-Arkansas football game on Saturday as a member of the USC band. While she was under the bleachers with the rest of her group before the half time performance, someone bumped into her. She turned to apologize to the person and...WHOA!!! It was MICHAEL PHELPS!!!
After the younger one returned her chin to its proper position on her face (it had dropped to the kitchen floor in shock, naturally!), I was immediately harangued for not having taken HER to the USC game on Saturday. Now, mind you, I've never been a football fan (let alone a "chokin' chicken" fan!), so this wouldn't have occurred to me as a possible Saturday activity. Trying to convince the child that WB Stadium is so large, the odds of HER having had the same fortunate accident were less than zero at best got me nowhere. Her older brother, the swim coach in training, didn't believe the story at all when she told it to him.
Determined & somewhat stubborn kid that she is, she immediately put pencil to paper & wrote to the esteemed Mr. Phelps--literally "opened a vein," as writing instructors often tell their pupils to do (yes, this apple's tangled up in the family tree's roots!), pouring out her heart about how he bumped into her friend, why didn't he come to see her since he was only 45 minutes away, I want to be your pen pal, & by the way please send me a letter & an autographed photo!
What are the odds this kid's EVER going to hear from the best damn swimmer since Spitz?
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