Some folks do outrageous things just to get a rep; as parents, Michele and I found ourselves doing the ridiculous just to get a reg - a registration, that is.
A little while back, I was leafing through the community centre brochure to see if there were any classes to enroll Kael in. Even though we spent so long in Taiwan, we weren't sold on the sign-my-kid-up-for-every-class-under-the-sun approach to parenting. However, a fun class to break the routine and interact with other kids seemed like a good idea.
When I came across a gymnastics class for toddlers, I needed look no further. Kael loves to climb, roll around, stand on his head, and spin around and around until he wobbles and crashes down uncontrollably. Not only are all these things encouraged in gymnastics, but, with any luck, his crashes might at least become somewhat controlled after the eight weeks.
But when we popped by the centre to register, one day before the class was scheduled to start, the worker laughed politely in our faces. "Oh, the "Tumbling Monkeys" is our most popular class. In fact, it fills up within hours of registration opening. Try again when the spring sessions start". From what the worker said, these classes sell out faster than Madonna tickets!
A few weeks ago, the brochure for the spring sessions arrived in the mail. We were on it. Michele dropped by the centre and was told that registration wasn't starting until the following Tuesday morning. And because of some technicality with the online registration process, signing up in person was mandatory. "Oh, and just so you aware, other parents start lining up two hours before it opens at 8:30", said the worker. Then he craned his neck around and whispered, as if he were a spy divulging top-secret information, "And you didn't hear this from me: I've heard that some parents go down to the pool early on the morning of the registration. If they're lucky, they'll get a lifeguard who's not trained on protocol, but knows how to register people in the system to do it. Remember, you didn't hear it from me!"
This sparked a debate between Michele and me. Is it really worth going through all this trouble? First of all, listening to instructions from his own parents is not Kael's forte, so is there any point in paying for a class that he won't be paying attention to anyways? From day one, the kid likes to do what he wants, when he wants. On the other hand, maybe he'd really love it and get into it. Maybe he'd have a blast? We can't not try, right?
So we decided to go for it. I walk Flea early in the mornings before work anyways, so I went by to see if we might catch the teenage lifeguard on duty.
I arrived at the centre at 6:15. I wasn't first. Two other parents were sitting there, eyes glazed over and coffee mugs glued to their lips. I tried the old, "I'm here to sign my son up" routine, but this was no rookie I was dealing with. "Registration opens at 9 AM, sir (is it time I started accepting people are going to call me 'sir'? It still feels weird to me). I suggest you take a number and wait with the other parents.", she said. I started to make up a sob story in my head about being a single dad and having to go to work and please, please... Then it ocurred to me: I was considering lying just to get my kid signed up for a gymnastics class. What's happening to me?
"What if I go home and come back?", I asked. "Some of the other parents that come after you might not like it", she warned, but what she really meant was "Go ahead, make their day, punk". I decided to take my chances and returned home to strategize with Michele.
We came up with a plan of attack: I tell work I have an appointment so that Michele can go back while I watch Kael. She will bring Chloe so that she can blame the baby if anyone kicks up a real stink or gets too hostile. We figured no one could argue with the tried and true, "Oh sorry, I had to go feed the baby" excuse.
It turns out that none of the other parents really cared after all. We celebrated Kael officially being signed up for his first gymnastics class as if he had just graduated with his Masters. "It better be worth it...", we thought to ourselves as we sipped on our champagne.
Coming soon: Tumbling Monkeys mid-way progress report
