My kids and I are in Tae Kwon Do together. Today was testing day for the two youngest kids. For those of you who are not familiar with martial arts, testing means that you are ready to move to the next belt level. In order to show proficiency, students must execute a variety of tasks, one of which is breaking a board with a specific type of kick.
Well…
Today at testing, my son had some trouble breaking his board. Enough trouble that his Master went over to help and encourage him. He took one look at my son’s foot, grabbed his hand and walked over to me. I, of course was sitting at the back of the bleachers. Since I was not testing today, I was using this rare opportunity in the Dojang to rest and observe the other students. I had taken a little extra time getting ready before I went, knowing that most often my fellow students saw me as sweaty and disheveled and tripping over my feet. This was an unusual chance to be a regular person who wore real clothes and makeup. I was rather enjoying myself sitting at the top of the bleachers with my oldest son.
So I was feeling like all-that-on-a-stick when our Master approached the bleachers and said (much too loudly in my opinion), “Ma-am, you really need to cut his toenails before he can break the board, they’re all long and pointy.”
Now, since I was determined to make an impression, I had worn my highest boots for this occasion. Boots that made loud clanking noises as scrambled to crawl over the other observers and down to the mat.
I looked down at my nearly eight year old baby’s feet. Honest to goodness, his toenails were extended beyond his toes and were in a sharp point. They looked like claws.
I looked around in desperation, I had no idea what to do, since I didn’t have a clippers. I briefly considered ripping the nails off, but that seemed likely to cause howling and draw unnecessary attention to my less than desirable predicament. Someone suggested he try wearing his sister’s Tae Kwon Do shoes. So we waited for his sister to break her board. She was the last in line. Everything came to a standstill while I tried to jam my son’s very sweaty feet into his sister’s shoes. Helpful comments abounded from the peanut gallery…
“He only needs to wear the shoe on his kicking foot.”
“Loosen up the laces”
“Maybe he need socks”
So I asked my daughter for her socks. They were sweaty, and filthy dirty, of course. So, in front of everyone, I peel them off of her. Luckily, my son sensed that this was not the time to complain. I was like the wicked stepmother trying to get my son’s foot in Cinderella’s slipper. The foot was not going in. Our Master looked at me, I looked at him. The entire room was waiting to see what would happen. And then, a miracle. The grandma of a friend produced a nail clippers from a little kit in her purse. We clipped the first few nails and he raced out to the mat to break his board.
I have to say, there have been many times in my life I’ve been proud of what my kids have done, resisting bullies, performing at musical recitals, learning to read chapter books, but nothing, nothing compares to Master Lee telling me from across the dojang (school),
“Ma-am, you really need to cut his toenails.”
It was undoubtedly my proudest moment as a mom. Sheesh.
When we got home… after visiting a great grandma, going out for dinner and a movie… four hours later…
my son walked in the door and headed directly to the bathroom to clip his nails.
And I guarantee, that none of us will ever step on the mat again without well groomed toes.