Hard work

In the last two weeks, CJ twice biked to daycare, with me jogging next to her. For a four-and-a-half-year-old, the 3.5-mile journey is not a trivial task, and each time I’ve praised her for the effort, and pointed out to her how other joggers and cyclists have also been impressed with her efforts.

We had planned to make the trip a third time the other morning, but when I woke her, she was reticent.

“I don’t want to bike to Roadrunners,” she said.

“Why not?” I said, in my most soothing and understanding tone, which, admittedly, isn’t that soothing.

“It’s too much hard work,” she said.

That just stunned me, and I left.

In the car on the way to daycare, I asked her again why she didn’t want to ride her bike to daycare. “It’s too much hard work,” she repeated.

This time, I was a better prepared.

“It’s because it’s hard, that’s why we do it,” I said, doing my best Kennedy impersonation, which, admittedly, isn’t that Kennedy-like.

Over the next two days, we talked about doing hard things, and today we gave it another go.

“Why do we do it?” I said, as she climbed the short hill just before reaching daycare.

“Because it’s hard!” she said.

Advertisement