They argue about his shoe wearing on a regualr basis. I really don't care if he wears shoes or not. They're his feet.
So I sign him up for Parkour. It's all about getting in and out of tight spaces and maneuvering majestically from one place to another. It was going to be perfect. He waited impatiently for the class to start.
I watched him for a full hour jump into pits and figure out how to climb out. I saw him swinging from high bars. Climbing ladders on the walls. Jumping with his body nearly pressed all the way to the ground. Impressive.
I knew he was loving it.
We got in the car.
"I don't like it," he said.
I was in shock. Serious shock.
"What in the world are you talking about....you were amazing! That is exactly what you do at our house...but here you don't get in trouble."
"Oh...it's just that I thought I could come and do whatever moves I wanted to do. I have to actually, like, follow directions."
And that, my friends. Is Jake. In a nutshell. An adorable little nutshell.