Or, as my sister (who has a Masters degree in gifted education) used to put it, “He gets to be gifted for an hour a week.” Of course, said sister is now the gifted education teacher at my son’s school, and the one who teaches him for that hour every week. So I feel confident that he’s getting the maximum benefit from that 60 minutes.

Anyway, the program sent home a form today asking us to provide a little information about our expectations. It also had a few questions for the child to answer himself. It asked what topics the child would like to learn about this year, what types of activities the child likes, and so forth.

The last question is “What is one thing you think is special about yourself?”

Mack’s answer: I am a super accuracy quarterback, and I am good at booming it deep.

As I waited, I noticed that I had a voice mail message, which is very rare for me. I figured it was Byron, from earlier in the day. But no, it was my mom, calling right as my plane must have been taking off. Let me paraphrase – but closely paraphrase – the message: “Mack hit Aidan with a baseball bat! In the face! Oh my god, the blood! The blood! He might lose his eye! Have you taken off yet? We’re going to the ER!”

Needless to say, I completely lost my mind right there at O’Hare. I called Byron back and found out that he already knew, and had been waiting to tell me in person. I couldn’t believe that this would happen to my darling Aidan, who I leave so rarely, when I wasn’t there. My first instinct was to hop right on the next plane back home.

Well, after getting an update (he didn’t lose his eye) and talking to my mom, and talking to my sister, and talking to Aidan, I decided to continue with my long weekend. Aidan’s Grammy and Auntie Emily did a wonderful job taking care of him, waiting for a plastic surgeon to give him 23 stitches, and making sure he didn’t agitate the wound after it was stitched.

I think the only thing worse than seeing your child hurt must be having him get hurt when you aren’t there.

Oh, and lest you think we should be sending Mack for serious counseling – the incident was an accident that happened when Aidan bent over behind Mack as he took a swing.

When I said how difficult that was, and how I was worried about whether every kid got enough playing time, Byron reacted as most men would. He said I just needed a plan for substituting, “Write it down, put down the times, and then just stick right to the plan.”

But I wonder how one plans for some of the substitutions that became necessary during yesterday’s second half. One child came out twice because she was scared of the wind. Another was sent out of the game because she said the other team “stinks,” and a third was expelled for throwing punches. One child was happy to enter the game whenever asked, but then refused to move so much as a foot from her chosen spot, regardless of whether the ball was within fifty feet of her. And then there’s Aidan, who with a few minutes left in the game simply walked off the field, sat down, and removed his shoes. He was done.