Kids and Orthotics

Wow, children sure have a lot going on. Is this a new thing? Maybe my memory is just fuzzy about my own childhood, but I remember mostly just living through the whole thing without incident. Like, maybe I pulled a girl’s hair once? There was a sports day at some stage, because I lost the egg and spoon race and I threw the egg at the boy who won and he got egg all over his face. That was a good day.

Otherwise, I got nothing much of anything. And then I babysit my niece and it’s like wow, cylinders. Cylinders firing. She has way more going on than me. The last thing her Mum said was asking me to head around the corner after school so we could get some children’s orthotics fitted in Cheltenham. Wasn’t sure I heard that correctly, but yeah. Lydia does indeed need orthotics, for children, because she’s on the school sprinting team at the age of seven. They train three times a week, which is good because she goes to an advanced maths class on Tuesdays and Thursdays and we’d hate for anything to clash.

At the age of seven. Professionally-fitted orthotics, from a reputable podiatrist; just thought I’d make that very clear. At first I thought this was one of those proud parent things. You know, with the parents thinking their child was a little prodigy and pushing them into all this stuff, and the child goes along with it because their Mum said so or whatever. But Min and Rob are so chilled, and when I asked they said that Lydia chose all this stuff by herself.

In fact, the whole reason she needs custom orthotics fitted in a Cheltenham clinic is because she goes out to the field behind the house every day to train and her shoes were getting old. So…children are now bionic little androids with infinite energy and drive. Truly, the new generation will be surpassing this one. Suppose that’s fine.