Juggling a little more than usual this week of summer vacation: Thing One has golf camp, Petunia has soccer camp, and Thing Two has the week off (he left this morning for a few days at his grandparents' house, so he's been with me the past two days.) Petunia's soccer camp is only for girls and is run by the head coach of the girls' soccer team at the high school our kids will attend, who by coincidence happens to be a friend and neighbor of mine although Petunia does not know her well. At a month shy of 7, Petunia is by far the youngest girl attending this year--there is one other girl who just turned 8 and the others range in age from 10-16.
At any rate, I arrived a bit early for pickup today and watched Petunia trot over to the head coach and have a conversation with her after the camp dismissed. Shortly afterward, the coach came up to me, laughing, and asked if I put her up to it. "Put her up to what?" I asked, half-fearing the response.
My little pipsqueak of a six year-old, unprompted, had walked up to the coach, asked if she could speak to her for a moment (exact quote) and then said "You've been watching me play for three days now. Can you tell me what I need to work on at home to get better?" (The coach thought either Himself or I had told her to do that, which we hadn't.) The kicker was the final statement: "I know I'm the littlest one here, so I need the most help. Can you help me?"
I have to give the kid credit: she has an awful lot of guts and determination for a very small person! Proud mama here.