You can see it on his face.
Each of the first through eighth grade classes sent their two winners on to today's final round.
Sixteen kids in all, seated on the stand.
Fellow students cheering them on.
All of us parents, nervous in our chairs.
Every time he steps up to that microphone, I can hardly look at him. Most of the time, head bowed and eyes closed.
All my kids each have had their thing-
whether it was geography, violin, basketball, art...
But for this my youngest child,
this is where he shines.
And it makes him happy.
And he knows he's good at it.
I sit there.
Amazed at his confidence. Breezing through those words.
How hard that would be with the whole school there and all those parent's eyes watching you.
His teacher and I sharing -we're so nervous- we're so proud- how much longer can he hold out- glances at each other.
Finally, it gets down to him, this little shrimpy 2nd grader and a big 8th grade girl.
And then he misses his word.
But you should have heard the cheers in that room
for my little man.