“Take a deep breath baby. Nothing bad is going to happen to you in there, and nobody will think any less of you if you don’t do well in these competitions. Heck, in some ways you’ve already won by simply making the team, which is more than I ever did in 5th grade.”

“Dad, you were a state champion debater.”

“First, that wasn’t until junior year – I couldn’t do anything well in 5th grade, except maybe feign illness. Second, my debate partner was an alien super-being. Third, my senior year was a total letdown, so, you know . . . uh, be wary of peaking early I guess. Anyway, if you’re measuring yourself by my highly suspect example, then I’ve totally failed as a parent. You’re the smartest kid I’ve ever heard of. You’re exceptional baby.”

“. . . Which is why I have to win today.”

“Uh, wait, that didn’t go the way I planned. . . Can I get a do over?”

“My competition starts in five minutes.”

“Okay, how about this? I love you and I love you and I love you and no matter what I love you?”

“Just be here when I get done”

“Can I shout ‘you’re the wind beneath my wings’ as you’re walking away?”

“No. And the answer is also ‘no’ to your next two jokey questions.”

“How’d you know there would be three?”

“That’s how you work Dad. Two isn’t enough, and four is too much. Three is funny.”

“. . .”

“I’m going”

“. . .”

“This is where you say good luck”

“You don’t need it.”