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dad and the egg on the spoon

published: 2011-05-16

Alan wasn’t good in sports which was unfortunate because his father was. He could never kick a ball towards where he wanted it to go and he’d always drop the frisbee. He tried, though, as hard as he could. But the harder he tried the worse he seemed at sports.

There was a sports day at school. Much to the despair of the green team, Alan had been added to it. But something magical happened: it turned out he was good at one particular thing. Really, really good. As nobody in the team quite felt like doing it, Alan was chosen to perform this activity: to walk as fast as he could holding a boiled egg on a spoon. And boy did he walk. In fact, he was almost running with the egg-on-a-spoon. Left and right, competitors were losing their eggs, frantically grabbing after them in the grass like madmen. But Alan shot forward. His eyes and mind and will were transfixed on that one egg on the spoon, his arm in perfect control while only his legs moved under a body he knew to keep perfectly still. He won by about three full minutes.
The first thing he did was to glance at his dad, who – thank goodness – had filmed it all. Alan was so proud that he even cheered the way a soccer player would cheer after making a goal. Dad had gone purple. That’s how hard he was laughing.
In the years to come, dad liked showing guests that video as it was always good for a laugh. And Alan? He wished he could disappear.

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