I blog so often about his brother, who's 19 months and a day older, that I often feel bad that I get only rare chances to brag about my youngest son. He is one of the most precocious, brilliant boys you could ever meet, and also one of the sweetest. At 13, he still hugs and kisses me in public, which is as rare as winning the lottery for a loving parent.
He is also funny and irreverent, ironic, and idiosyncratic. He's way deeper into Medieval history than soccer, though he enjoys cheering for his brother and sister as they compete on the pitch.
He claims that he is "unathletic," but I have a different view. He is strong and fast, but he just chooses not to spend his time playing sports.
Nevertheless, in our family, we require every kid to play at least one sport, so he agreed to join his team's cross country team. Prior to today's all-city private school race at the Polo Grounds in Golden Gate Park, he stretched.
Once the race of the 7th and 8th grade boys was underway, Dylan was back in the pack.
But as they made their way around the oval, Dylan kept gaining.
By the finish line, he was on the leader board, coming in as #23. Best of all, as he crossed, a bunch of the crowd was chanting "D Y L A N, D Y L A N,
D Y L A N!"
That is the very first time he has ever had the chance to feel what it is like to be a hero. My suspicion is that in the next race, he'll be running harder and faster. I am SO proud of him.
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