The Pony had his conference academic tournament today. His team finished the regular season with a record of 8-1. After playing four tournament matches, they ended their season in second place. That's not too shabby, seeing as how they are about the third smallest school in the ten-team conference.
Because The Pony is their workhorse, he sometimes feels the pressure. The coaches rest him in runaway games, so as not to incur the ire of administrators who might suspect they are running up the score. But all is fair in tournaments and war. The Pony played every quarter of every game today. He arrived back at Basementia none the worse for wear.
This morning, he had requested an acetaminophen. Not to ingest. To take along. Just in case he developed a headache. It's the only pharmaceutical that I allow him to consume. It works like a charm. I told him he could take one in his pocket, just in case he got a headache. He said it might get crushed, and asked for one in each pocket. I gave him two. With the instructions that he was only allowed to take one, that nobody was to know that he had them, and that under NO circumstances was he to give one to anybody else. That's a hard and fast school rule. He could have been in trouble just for having them. But sometimes, you've got to assess the situation, and do what seems best for your kid. Especially when he's The Pony.
When he got home, he emptied his pockets. Out came the change from lunch. And the two acetaminophen tablets. "I didn't need them. Funny thing, Mrs. Coach One had some exactly like them."
"How do you know that?"
"Because Mrs. Coach Two was asking if anybody had any acetaminophen, because she had a headache. I knew I had some in my pocket. But I didn't say anything. Because you said not to give them to anybody else."
Sometimes, The Pony takes me too literally.