Tonight it was my turn to take Cassie to her Tae Kwon Do testing. It was my turn for three reasons:

1. I hadn't gone last time.
2. Alert Volunteer Tammy was volunteering at the crisis pregnancy center in town.
3. It is the coldest night here in 400 years, or something.

Now, any situation where I should be present in order to support my child(ren) and ALSO have to be in close proximity to other humans that I don't know creates a lot of tension for me. I find making small talk difficult, and tend to want to just cut to the chase and discuss religion, or politics, or something controversial like trans-fats. But those are generally not the sorts of things you discuss in these situations, so I try to control myself and just listen instead.*

Listening, though, only serves to further convince me I need to work on my patience. Because I find that if I hear something I disagree with I have this chivalrous urge to wade in, long sword swinging to and fro, in an attempt to Make It All Right. Past experience has taught me that's a misdemeanor.

Cassie's instructor is Master Chaar. Master Chaar runs the Chaar Tae Kwon Do & Martial Arts Center. So far I've been very impressed with Master Chaar personally and professionally. As an example, he puts together extra movie nights for the kids to come, play with some of the equipment and just unwind with a good, kid-friendly movie. I think that's great - fostering that sense of community amongst the students. Professionally his accomplishments are very substantial.

Although he's really a nice guy - you don't want to cross him. If you do, it would probably go down like this: First, he would raise his hand into some sort of animal shape. Then he would say: "DANCING PYTHON IN THE CLOUDS!" without moving that hand at all, for about ten seconds. But then you would realize he haf been moving it all along - too fast for the human eye to see - and then your head would fall off your body. (I know all of this because he ordered extra anchovies one night and the pizza boy didn't come through and, well, I think the next guy made sure there was a whole bunch on there.

Cassie's testing went very well. She had to break a board again, but instead of using her head, she was only allowed to use her left ear (she's left-handed.) Eventually, as she progresses, she'll have to learn how to break a board with a harsh word, and then at the last test - she'll break a board with a stern look. I have no doubt that she can do it. I get that same look from Alert Reader Tammy all of the time. Oh, I know she tones it down because so far I've only suffered some minor abrasions, a bruise or two, and once a pretty good sprain. I'm convinced that one day she'll lay it on me big time and I'll probably show up at work with crutches the next day. And lot of pain medication.

Cassie did wonderfully and I'm very proud of her. She sacrificed last week to attend extra classes in advance of her testing, even though I'm sure there were other things she wanted to do. And she was a trooper tonight, still feeling a little queasy from her weekend bug. Now that she passed the test there will be a new belt ceremony this weekend complete with cake. I hate getting my arm twisted like that but I think I can make it.

*Okay, that was pretty vague, even for me. So here's a sample, which I write at my peril because we know that this sort of thing will go around and the next time I show up at TKD I'll get a look from this person that seems to say "Oh THERE'S the Smug Blog Hero with his Smug Blog WhoThinksHeKNOWSEVERYTHING!" But, really, this is just an example of my challenge interacting with other humans. I observed a woman talking with her young son, who was slightly nervous. The mother remarked "What can I do to give you good luck?" and she sort of hemmed and hawed and actually there was this extended semi-embarassing pause as it seemed inevitable that the young lad was now going to enter his testing sans any luck of any sort. Without thinking I almost said, "You could say a prayer for him" which I would have said respectfully, but that's one of those things that you never know how it would be taken. (I ended saying a silent prayer) Should I have said anything? Introvert Carl says no and is breathing into a paper bag at just the thought. Perfectionist Carl says yes and is figuring out how to commandeer the brain when another situation like this turns up.

All in all, just another night at Tae Kwon Do.