|Pictured: Sickliest boy and laziest dog companion.|
So... there's that. Which is... charming. Especially the projectile spray of sputum that mists my face and slaps me from my slumber.
When we came home from his (first) gymnastics class on Monday night, we realized he had a fever. It may or may not have contributed to his (lack of) skills that he showcased. Embarrassing or not, he had a good time and I'm confident he'll do better next time. Some of the kids had already taken the class before so he was at a bit of a disadvantage, but he doesn't seem to compare himself to them yet.
I've been showing Oliver some YouTube videos of kids doing gymnastics so he has more of an idea of what to do. He seemed supremely confused by everyone's enthusiasm and demands of "walk across this" or "jump off of that." Part of this confusion is probably because he wasn't feeling great.. the other part is probably because, well, those people are a little bit crazy.
I had a hard time telling if he was really enjoying himself or not. He wasn't very.... ...emotional. At all. But when we finished he said he had fun and he wants to go again. So we'll go again, and I'm sure he'll get the hang of it. Eventually.