"you look great. and no one is going to remember you."

This week is Jesse James Days. Actually, it's THE DEFEAT of Jesse James Days, since you wouldn't want to glorify the bad guy. Last night was Townie Night, where all of the food vendors open for the evening and the weekend begins.

I asked Ivar on Wednesday if he wanted to do the Tractor Peddle. I think that's what it's called. The thing where the kids peddle a little tractor that has a weighted wagon and see how far they can get. The kids who get the farthest get a trophy. Everyone get a can of pop. We have watched this event the last two years and I thought he might want to participate this year. He said, "I think I'd be too embarrassed having all those people watch me."

So I told him about how I spent way too much of my childhood caring way too much about what other people thought. But that when I became an adult, I realized that no adults cared if I did or didn't do something. Adults are actually cheering on every kid just for trying. My concern about what others would think was all in my head. I said to Ivar, "the funny thing about the tractor peddle is that no one is going to remember you. Think about it. Do you remember a single kid who did the tractor peddle from the last few years that we watched? I don't remember anyone! Except that one kid who cried so hard because he got nervous and I felt terrible for him. So as long as you don't cry, and you just try it, you'll get your pop and can be proud that you were brave and tried it."

He decided to do it. And was nervous all afternoon before we left. He went up to put on a clean shirt and had trouble picking which one because as he said, "I want to look nice but I don't want to be remembered."

So he chose a blue shirt and his favorite black shorts and wore his new tennis shoes and john deere hat. As we went downstairs I told him, "you look great. and no one is going to remember you."

He did great. He peddled hard and it was heavy. His pull put him right in the middle of the pack of 6 year olds. He got his Dr. Pepper that we let him drink at 7pm. He was proud and I was more proud. And guess what? I will remember him. And how fun it was to watch him be brave.