Family night the other night had us watching “The Gabby Douglas Story” about the US gymnast who took a couple of gold medals at the 2012 Olympics. It’s a Lifetime TV movie, so there’s that. (Expect lots of exclamation points.)
On screen, Gabby and her mother have a bit of dialogue. (I don’t have a script, so I’m paraphrasing. But, it was pretty much like this the whole way through.)
Gabby (upset): Mommy! I finished in 16th place! I have to go to Iowa to train with Coach Liang Chow!
Gabby’s mother: Honey! Iowa is a long way from here!
Gabby: I don’t care! I’m going! I want to go to the Olympics!
Here’s how the discussion went in our house. (Also, no script. Fewer exclamation points. More sarcasm.)
Isabella (the 8-year-old gymnast): Daddy…
Me: Let me stop you right there.
Isabella: Stop who? Where?
Me: If you ever finish in 16th place, we will happily send you to Iowa.
Iz: So, I can train with Coach Chow?!
Me: No. Because of the shame you will have brought to this family, we will send you to Iowa.
Iz: But, they must have other coaches there, right?
Me: You know what they have in Iowa?
Me: Flat. They have a whole lot of flat.
Mommy (chiming in): And, Fields of Dreams.
Me: Yeah. Flat and ’90s-era Kevin Costner baseball movies.
Iz: But, what if I win?
Me: What do you mean?
Iz: Well, if I win, then I think YOU should go to Iowa. So, it will be less flat. Because, you know, your belly.
I’ve already spent half the day looking for my baseball glove.