Whenever I see a kid that's really, really good at a sport, I'll silently blame his or her parents for ruining their kid's life. This little girl climbs at the same gym as me (Yeah, I joined a gym. No big deal.) and she's mind-blowingly good. She's always there before me and leaves after me, and her dad stands five feet behind her, watching her climb the entire time. I feel like part of my feelings toward the parents comes from jealousy, but since it's unlikely that I'll ever be able to admit that I'm jealous of a 6-year-old girl's skills, I'll keep blaming her parents. It reminds me of a guy who used to come into my bike shop who was known as "Super Dad" when he wasn't around. It takes a special kind of person to motorpace their kid five hours a day. I always thought it'd be fun to drag him around behind my car for even an hour.
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