Maybe he's African

Last week, Mark's class held try-outs for the annual Bunny Hop.

The Bunny Hop is a relay race comprised of kids from each class who pass a carrot instead of a baton. That team then competes against all the other classes for their grade.

Mark prefers the Turkey Trot in November since it's an individual race, but he tried out for the Bunny Hop anyway. He made the team, and told me all about the trial races. He counted out the top racers, and where they placed during the race.

"I won the first two races," he bragged, explaining that the top six runners each earned a spot on the team. Then his tone turned serious.

"Wyatt was in seventh place, so he 'fell,'" Mark scoffed, raising his hands in air quotes. "He didn't want to lose, so he accidentally fell down."

I could tell by Mark's disgusted tone that relay races are serious business, and I didn't blame Wyatt for staging a fall to save face. Seemed like a lot of pressure to me!

Mark gave me a play by play of each race. I know he's a super fast runner, but as he told the stories, I wondered if his common sense tripped him up during the trial races.

"Did you tie your shoelaces before your race?" I asked. "Or did you run right out of your shoes?" (I've actually seen him do that a lot.)

"No, my laces don't look cool when they're tied," he scoffed, as if I were the dumbest mom in the world.

"Well, then did your shoes fall off?" I pressed.

"No," he answered. "I wasn't wearing them."

"You...what?" I asked. Now I was thoroughly confused.

"I didn't want my shoes to fall off, so I ran in my socks," he said. Then he kicked off his shoes and showed me the proof.





"You ran around the field IN YOUR SOCKS?" I gasped. And ticked another mental box as to how boys are different from girls.

"Yup, and I won!" he reminded me.

And so he did. I wasn't sure whether to scold him, question him further, or just accept it. Ultimately, I just congratulated him on his wins.

"You know, some of the fastest runners are from Africa," I told him. "And they don't wear shoes or socks! They run barefoot during marathons."

I immediately regretted sharing that story with Mark--he'll probably never wear shoes again.

His team didn't fare well in the official hop, but it wasn't due to a lack of shoes. Apparently, one of the kids dropped the carrot, and was scorned by the entire class. Mark shook his head angrily as he shared the story.

Bu then he shook it off, and ran out to the backyard to run some more.

"I've got to practice a lot," he told me somberly. "There's not much time left before the Turkey Trot is here."

I nodded and watched him run off through the house. At least he was still wearing shoes.