Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Gym Class, Flintstones style
Actually, the gym teacher does kind of remind me of Fred Flintstone.

This is what T told me the other night about her Italian gym class:  Basically, all of the girls play pallavolo or volleyball and the boys play pallamano, which is some weird combination of ultimate frisbee and soccer using a ball instead of a frisbee.  T prefers the boys' game because she is better at catching the ball than she is lobbing it over the net and because the girls are less than patient with anyone who is not the next Misty May-Treanor.

Despite a lack of open enthusiasm on the part of the boys of 1-H, T has persisted and the gym teacher has accepted that she is a testarda/hard head.

But the other day when "Fred" was giving the team a lavata di capo/scolding or good old fashioned telling-off, he chose the unfortunate words: "What do you think this is? This is not a game for little girls!" At which point every boy on the team looked at T as if to say, "Does he mean we have to man up or does he mean she can't play anymore?"
T just rolled her eyes and did what she usually does -- stand at the goal and wait for somebody to finally pass her the ball, per carita'!

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