Band of Brothers.
“The Sandlot” and “The Little Rascals” are just a couple of Sandler’s all time favorite movies. They both tell the classic story of a group of boys who get themselves in and out of trouble with teamwork and camaraderie. After watching each one a gazillion times, he often recites the lines and references the stories throughout the day. Not long ago I worried he would never know what it was like to experience such a bond with a group of kids. Not only were his peers few and far between, but invitations to get togethers and parties were nonexistent. That is until he found his people.
As a parent, it is unbearable to witness your kid not fitting in. Fortunately for Sandler, he is usually oblivious to others’ perception of him. However, I am privy to all of the snickers; I hear the comments and have to bite my tongue. It is heart breaking. I am grateful to say it is a feeling that is becoming more foreign. Once again, I have the skateboarding community to thank for that.
When Sandler has a bad day at the skatepark—throwing his board, yelling explicit verbiage, causing me look around as if I am searching for the person who raised such a temperamental little creature—I question the time we spend there. Then the good days happen (much more often than the bad). It could be him landing an incredible trick, or exchanging numbers with a new pal, or more recently—getting invited to a birthday party from a fellow skater.
To some, such an invitation may seem par for an eleven year old kid, but for Sandler it was as if he had been asked to walk a red carpet. He prepared attending his first birthday party by calling the host five hundred times to confirm the day and time; taking RSVP-ing to a whole new level. Then he invited himself to arrive an hour early, but not before he made sure he carefully chose the gift he would most want to receive.
He counted down the minutes for an entire week, and the day finally arrived. He was so excited he could not see straight. He had the thrill of his life. When it came time to pick him up, he did not want to leave, of course, but we had covered overstaying his welcome. Eventually, with the help of the attendees escorting him to the car, we got him to go. His departure frown was quickly turned when he began telling me all about the party.
Though he was nervous he would get in a lot of trouble, he could not contain his enthusiasm and told me they got to ring peoples door bells and run and climb onto a roof. He asked me if I was mad, and if he could go to jail for doing such things. I reassured him that as long as those they ding-dong-ditched did not have a really scary dog—like The Beast (the dog from “The Sandlot”)—there was no harm in the prank. In fact, it was one of my favorite past times. As far as climbing the roof, I told him not to make a habit of it, and to choose the roofs wisely, but it sounded very exciting.
Quietly, I supported his brief stint of criminal behavior and smiled for hours thinking about him getting to be part of a birthday adventure with his newfound brotherhood. It made me eternally grateful for our immeasurable amount of time at the skatepark.
- Nikki