“Pass him! Pass him!! Pass!!! Him!!!!” I screamed louder and louder until my voice grew horse.
The cross country runners were less than twenty yards from the finish line and closing and my boy was just inches from passing the runner in front of him. I knew he could take him. And he did.
(Okay, full disclosure, he isn’t actually my son, he is my son’s best friend. However, I love and feed him like my own, so I feel like I can claim him and even embarrass him if the need arises. He’ll thank me later. Anyways, back to the moment at hand…)
I cheered even louder as he crossed the finish line, beaming with pride. I knew he could do it.
It was then that I realized I was getting some dirty looks from the other moms who were gathered to watch the runners finish the race…
