Track and field star

Mark made it onto the school track team again this year. That was the good news.

The bad news is that he only ran one race, and he didn't qualify for the big district track meet. He's fast, but not as fast as the giant 8th graders who stood a good head above him, sporting humongous muscles, and, in some cases, facial hair. I swear, these "boys" must be raised on Muscle Milk and pure protein.

But what I love most about Mark is his attitude. He was a little bummed he didn't qualify, but he still wanted to go to the meet to support his teammates. I thought this was a grand idea, not only because I love his sportsmanship, but also because it meant I didn't have to spend another three hours sitting in the bleachers to watch Mark run for 15 seconds.

So he suited up and I dropped him off at the stadium. I went on to breakfast with my friends Edra and Chas, and Mark went to cheer on his team.

Halfway into our meal, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. I figured it was Mark, ready to come home, and was surprised to see it was my friend Karen instead.

"Mark just accepted the first place ribbon for shot put for Eric with lots of panache," it said.

I just shook my head. I've seen Mark collect awards and merit badges onstage before--he is not AT ALL shy. "Panache" was code for "Mark accepted an award and hammed it up."

I shared the message with Edra and Chas, and we all cracked up. Mark loves any opportunity to make people laugh, and we could only imagine him up at the podium.

"Heard you had quite a morning," I said when I picked Mark up. "You won a first-place ribbon, huh?"

He smiled. "Yup," he said. "Eric went home, so I went up there and said, 'I'm Eric.' They said, 'Congrats, you won first place!'"

"They didn't even check?" I said. "They just gave you the ribbon?"

He nodded. "It was awesome. All the other guys were HUGE--they were like, six feet tall with huge muscles," he said. "There I was, five feet tall, skinny, no muscles. They just stared at me and said, 'How'd you do it? How'd you throw it that far?'"

And then I laughed out loud. I could just picture Mark shrugging, then throwing his hands in the air victoriously, waving them triumphantly. I could also picture the giants staring agape at Mark, equal parts jealous and disbelief.

"The Cubberley team was laughing so hard," he said. "And the parents, too. But everyone else was kinda confused--they didn't understand what was so funny."

And I laughed again. I laughed about it the rest of the afternoon, too. Because honestly, that is Mark in a nutshell. He didn't even participate--he was just there for moral support. It was 100% Mark--he did none of the work, and got all of the glory.

That's my kid for you. In addition to being a champion shot-putter, he also keeps me very entertained.