I had a bunch of errands to run today, which resulted in stopping for fast food at lunch.
I got the kids each their own kids meal, complete with apple slices…so they were totally healthy. And when we got home I unwrapped the prize inside each bag. Today the magical Wendy’s elf gave us mini volleyball nets. Oh yes. A rectangular piece of cardstock paper with the design of a net printed on. Two plastic pieces to create a stand. And a small plastic ball–kind of ping-pong-ish but with the lines of a volleyball molded on.
You set up this lovely masterpiece and hit the ball back and forth with your hands. Why they felt the need to make it volleyball, I’m not sure. Because it works just like ping-pong. Corporate sponsorship or some such nonsense.
Anyway. My son wanted to play volleyball with me, so I set it all up and tossed the ball over the “net” to him. The following conversation ensued:
Him: No, Mommy. In the net.
Me: What? No, over the net.
Him (angry): No! IN the net.
Me: Why do you think the ball should be hit into the net, buddy?
Him: Like in the pool!
Then it dawned on me. All those family get togethers over the summer where we played pool volleyball. He was apparently a very keen observer as we less-than-athletic adults played rounds and rounds of very ungraceful volleyball. Hitting the ball into the net over and over and over again. It’s no wonder he thinks that’s how the game is played. According to what he saw with his very own eyes, that’s exactly how it goes.
So. If children will be who they see, my kids won’t be Olympic volleyball players. Because everyone they know sucks at it. Well. That and all the fast food.