I didn’t imagine the hundreds and hundreds of hours, the weeks and years, I would spend standing on windy train platforms waiting for the XPT to pass
When I thought what my spectator duties would be as a parent – which wasn’t something I thought about much before I had kids, to be honest – I imagined being the kind of parent I’d wanted for myself as a child. A regular spot on the sidelines, engaged in the game but not crazy, drinking a coffee and reading the paper while 20 small people threw themselves on a ball in front of me. Maybe some nippers, definitely some ski trips, hopefully not any competitive swimming.
What I didn’t imagine was the hundreds and hundreds of hours, the weeks and years, I would spend standing on windy train platforms waiting for the XPT to pass. I never thought my Saturday morning sport might actually take the form of a walk to the local station, catching a train for one stop, and then walking back, happy and high fiving my genuinely thrilled kid.
Continue reading...from The Guardian http://bit.ly/2BP23zV
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