"Have Fun in Second Place"

The race was over. He had won. He hoped he would 'cause he was better and had had a head start on us. Dad and grandpa had planned it that way.

We had arrived with the super food of the summer at the house of our son and 'daughter', living nearby. Strawberries hit the spot anytime, especially now in June's wondrous heat. We had been up early with plans to shop early at two places then home. I had so much to do. Don't we all? The visit was ending when it happened: the race to the corner.

Our racing competitor, our happy-go-lucky, enthusiastic, 'driven' four-year-old grandson, had recently broken his wrist while playing outside. He had landed on his hand, seriously injuring it. He was unable to play sports for a month so had to adapt and avoid strenuous activity. Then came the idea. Our grandson was on his tricycle with dad behind him directing the race. 'Alex' steered with precision while pedaling speedily along the side walk, smiling at his competitors on the road next to him. Grandpa and his sidekick, grandma, smiled back at this precious child who belonged to them. Rules were followed as the Chevy Avalanche sped to 15 klm. The race was on!

We drove respectively and respectfully down the road as our enthusiastic grandson, on his three wheeler, smiled at his competition. He is an avid and accomplished cyclist but doctor's orders prevented him from demonstrating his prowess for now, broken wrist and all. Dad was so proud.

The street was quiet that morning.  Well under the speed limit, grandpa drove. The little guy, an aficionado of all things big, fast and classic was excited to be racing against the biggest truck of all. And it all belonged to his grandpa!

"Have fun in second place" declared our grandson, happily, as we drove away from this sweet encounter on the corner. He was a delight; the words, beyond his years. And he was ours!