Higher, Faster, Stonger of the Preschool Variety

So, as happens every 2 years, I'm addicted to the Olympics. I, who normally couldn't care less about sports (unless you count the years the Blue Jays won the World Series) can watch anything as long as it happens during these two weeks. Even ridiculous Olympic sports like Show Jumping, which as far as I can see should be in the Horse Olympics, not the human ones.  But still, for me it's all about the actual races...anything based on speed where you can see first, second, third all at the same time.  I'm increasingly lukewarm about any sport where judges (or animals) are involved. Swimming, rowing, running...those I can watch all day. I'm not even sure if I care that they are all drugged, I still love it. 

Also, Michael Phelps is hot. 

Anywhoo. 

Back to real life, which has been relatively quiet since we got back from Thunder Bay...

I had a horrible "incident" at one of the Early Year programs this week. We went to one of the sing-a-long classes where the kids all sit in the middle of the room and they wheel in all the old people behind them. There was one particularly decrepit looking woman who seemed mostly paralyzed from the neck down sitting in a wheelchair behind us. 

As it turns out, this class is like a giant Health Hustle, or for those who may not get the 80s reference, it involves songs that make kids do things of the "jump up if you're wearing red" variety. There was one song that involved tossing a bean bag to the person next you. Kieran, who is always really slow to warm up to these classes (I secretly hopes he finds them as lame as I do) happened to love the bean bag song. He jumps up and starts throwing his bean bag around and before I can stop him, he whips one with incredible-unforeseen-force, right into the face of the old, paralyzed woman behind us. I run over to the woman and grab the bean bag which is now sliding off her face and am apologizing profusely, but this woman, like something out of a bad comedy movie is FURIOUS. She starts yelling and swearing and asking "what the hell I'm doing hitting her in the face." It was brutal. The lady beside her, which I think may have been her daughter, was telling me it was OK and that she didn't know what she was saying, blahblahblah. But it was totally awkward and it look about three people and, finally,  a rousing rendition of a "Bicycle Built for Two" to calm her down. Needless to say, as soon as the class was over we took off. 

Maybe really, really old people and little children aren't the greatest mix.