N's been taking golf lessons for a little over a year now. About a month ago, he graduated from the beginner's group--which had kids 5, 6, and 7 years of age--to the 'juniors' group, which has kids between the ages of 7 and 14.
Today, when he came home from his hour-and-a-half lesson, he came running in to me, waving a dollar bill. "Look what I won!" And behind him came Baroy, simply grinning.
"Tell Mommy how you got that," Baroy said.
At which point N starting saying something about chipping and "that girl" and "and I won!"
Apparently, at the end of class today, the teacher told each kid to grab one ball. He put them behind a line and told them to chip onto the green, and the kid who got closest to the hole would win a dollar.
That kid? That would be N.
I know that pretty much every parent of every kid who ever picks up a golf club and enjoys it thinks that kid is going to be the next Tiger Woods. I'm no exception. N's innate talent at this game is scary. It's scarier still when you think about the fact that he has fine-motor deficits, and that the sorts of other issues he has are often paired with gross motor delays as well. And, in fact, he actually has some gross motor delays. They just don't visibly affect his golf game.
Look. I know there's no crystal ball here. I know he may turn out to be nothing more than a kid who enjoys playing this particular game. But, today, my child--the one whose teacher thinks needs more help than he's getting, the one whose occupational therapist is concerned about, the one who doesn't go through his days racking up successes on a regular basis--chipped his ball closer to the hole than seven other kids, all bigger and older and more experienced than he is. And he got a dollar for doing so.
My 7-year-old earned a dollar playing golf today. Even if it turns out to be his last, I think that's awfully cool.