Blind Hula Hooping (First Time I Was So Proud That I Got Mad)
Sometimes you experience such a strong emotional response to something that it’s kind of upsetting when others are around and you fall so short of the mark.
After a long day at the beach, the family decided that going to the pier was a better way to handle our hunger than shaping sand into the vague shape of hot dogs or hamburgers and then seeing how much sand the human stomach can tolerate.
On the way there, Max took notice of all the street performers. As I explained about them, I could see it was dawning on him that it was like a job, for money, not just being weird or showing off.
So, we settled into our spot on the waiting list to eat at Bubba Gump’s Shrimp Co. Being kid conscious, this clever establishment provided toys for amped-up kids to play with and benches for amped-out parents to rest on.
That hula hoop doesn’t stand a chance. Not one friggin’ chance!
Max grabbed a hula hoop and I saw him turn it over in his hands, thoughtful. My eyes widened in wonder as I watched him walk to the middle of the pier, within the thick herd of tourists and beach-goers, and started rocking that thing like he could save the world or open a wormhole with it.
He was street performing!
Fireworks in my chest, baby! I was so proud. He ran back up to me and asked if he could borrow my cap. In my proud stupor I didn’t even wonder why and just handed him the thing with a dumb smile on my face as he ran back into fray.
He held out the cap! For tips! And he was hula hooping with! his! eyes! CLOSED! For added dramatic appeal! Holding out my cap for tips…
This is when I started to get mad. I watched that stupid plastic ring blur around my boy’s hips to do Elvis justice, as the crowd just oozed around him, oblivious and ignoring. It started to break my heart, and with each passing person, it started to piss me off. He wasn’t just fearless and amazing out there, he was Donna Summer, he was working hard for the money!
He opened his eyes after a while and his hips slowed. The thing clattered to the boardwalk in a sort of hula hoop death rattle. He caught the thing up in his hand and headed back with my cap. Empty. I stood up and crushed him in a hug.
I handed him a bill and he smiled an odd smile. I leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Anything on the menu that you want is yours. And, yes, I also mean dessert.”
Alison@Mama Wants This says: 
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