A couple of weekends ago Molly graded for her junior black belt in Aikido. It was one of those chest-swelling moments in the life of a parent.
While I was watching her strut her stuff on the mat something struck me just as sure as if Molly had hit me round the head with her jo (fighting stick). That girl on the mat, whoever she was, was not the girl who lives in our house. Aikido took the girl who lives in our house and somehow performed the old switch-a-roo leaving a calm, ordered and in control girl in her place. She was awesome, I wanted to take that girl home with me.
The girl I did take home is a normal twelve year old. She is totally in control, of her mobile phone, she is so calm she finds moving from the couch difficult, and she just ‘ordered’ her sister to keep out of her room or die a horrible death.
I love both of those girls but truth be told I might love the one on the mat just a teeny bit more, especially if she cooks as well.
To celebrate Molly’s black belt we had pizza for lunch.