Tuesday, September 6, 2011

We're way too competitive.

There is a lot in parenting magazines right now about  kids' sports being too competitive. I'm pretty competitive as a parent. Some experts don't like that quality in parenting. I'm going to invoke Descartes here and claim I was born this way.

On a recent visit to Phipps, we were headed to the Butterfly Room, loudly, like we do everything. So it was not unusual for another parent who overheard our plan to stop us and tell us, "there are no butterflies left."

"Oh, the front desk said there were a few left," I replied, for the benefit of my potentially stricken children.

"Well, we didn't see a single one," said I'm-here-to-ruin-your-Labor-Day-visit-to-the-botanical-conservatory-Dad. His heartless children nodded in agreement and stared at my children, waiting to see if anyone cried.

As I glanced at my children, staring back with a certain gleam in their eyes, I suddenly realized no one was going to cry, because no one in my family believed those losers. I realized, in that moment, we were all united with one goal - find some butterflies and prove those idiots wrong. My obnoxious, imperfect, competitive family cannot be stopped.

I knew to look at the windows. That's where they all hang out.


M. spotted this one on a wire hanging from the ceiling.


Again, look on the windows. Works every time.

We are so thorough. Found this silhouette on our way out. 


Hogans 4, Loser Family 0. Game over.