Gavin of the Dance

His name is Gavin, and I've introduced him before. He's funny, saying some of the most amazing
things I've heard from children.

 He's a 6-year-old dancer. He takes or has taken be-bop dance lessons and apparently for his age he's really, really good. He likes to bust out moves and the bigger the crowd, the bigger the smile. He loves baseball, I think, and is partial to bounce ball (lower grade volleyball) and even basketball at his size.

But I've found something he's not. He's not a football player.
He went out, as you can see, but this is what he said: "Those pads are aggravating."

When he tried to make a tackle on one of his friends in his only practice, he said, "My whole body vibrated."

So, he said no.

I read a story a while back that made me think instantly of Gavin, way before he decided he had better things to do that tackle or be tackled.

The writer told of sitting in the stands as her 6-year-old played tee-ball. 

The writer said, "I told the story about my son informing me he wanted to dance in high school and a barrel chested man that looked like his glory days happened about 20 years ago bellowed out, "If my son wanted to dance, I would kill myself."

Me? I want Gavin to dance on to stardom if that's his desire. Would I have loved to have seen my grandsons playing football? Well, yeah. But the fact is what they want is more important by large amounts than anything I could ever want.

Me? I don't like cheerleading, bands, pep squads and such. I see the field, not the sidelines. But that doesn't mean that tons of folks have to feel the way I do.

And neither does Gavin, who once after getting off a roller-coaster in Florida said, "That was terrifying, but AWESOME."

So is he.