The Real Thing

 

Leslie and I waited at the end of the hall tentatively.  A door opened, and the team came rolling out, bouncing toward us like a bucket of tennis balls that had just spilled.  John's head was down, slowly shaking back and forth, his voice quietly moving the children in our direction.  He did what my cowardice had prevented me from joining him in---he observed their instant challenge.

          "We have about half an hour.  How did you do?  Do you want to talk about it?"  The secretive nature of this portion of competition called for us to find a truly private space to talk.  "No, not here." I cut the kids' excitement off, "Let's go to the van."

          In the van, the words couldn't come fast enough.

          "It was hard."

          "No, it was cool!  I built a cannon!"

          "I made a dinosaur!"

          "I made a car!"

          "Hold on--what were you supposed to do?  I asked about the task, getting a burble of what seemed to be contradicting answers all at once.  John clarified, somewhat downcast.

          "The leggos were weights.  They were supposed to suspend them.  They built instead.  On the other hand," he added, this time with an amused tone, "They didn't fight.  They didn't even talk!"  We both knew at least this was a victory--a gigantic step towards being a team.