Step aside Usain Bolt. The world has a new 'fastest man alive'. That's right. My daughters recently bestowed that title upon me.
It sure is nice for my aging, balding, expanding body to be recognized for greatness in athletic achievement. My ego certainly appreciates having children too young and disconnected to the wider world to realize that perhaps I am not the athletic/artistic/intellectual all star they make me out to be.
I earned the 'fastest man alive' title by beating my daughters in a race, me on foot and them on their bikes. Not too tough when they are 4 and 6 and riding second-hand bikes with minor mechanical issues. I tried not to gloat to much.
Actually, my youngest was very quick to point out that I really wasn't the fastest person in the world. My 4 year old quickly countered my 6 year old's "fastest person in the world" declaration with the thought that I was only 3rd: "nuh-uh!!! God is the fastest.....and Jesus. Daddy is only 3rd".
Jesus is always one-upping me!
I guess I will happily take 3rd in their world as long as possible. I wonder how long I can keep the ruse up? How long until they actually watch me when I take them along when I play basketball? I wonder if they would believe me if I told them I was practicing running in slow motion to make others feel better?
While not trying to be deceptive with my daughters, there is something unique about being able to be a hero is someone's eyes, even if only for a few short years. Hopefully I can continue to parent in a way that warrants trust and respect even as the 'awe' wears out.
