Cooties

Both BMOC and Middle Man practice an ancient form of Korean martial art known as Tang Soo Do. Its focus is the development and unification of three basic elements: body, mind and spirit. I like it because the kids can knock each other around in a controlled environment (and not my house, which is clearly not controlled).

As a bonus, the boys have taken to answering me with a military-style “Yes, ma’am!”

I believe the Chinese characters for Tang Soo Do (唐手道 ) literally translate to “the way of the hand.” This further resonates with me since I often employ the way of the hand in my parenting. Although I’m not sure my interpretation is consistent with what the Eastern founders had in mind...

Anyway, as the name suggests, one who practices Tang Soo Do uses their hands. Both teacher and student. So when a fellow parent asked the instructor not to touch her son because the teacher had the audacity to cough before class, and this parent didn’t want to risk her son getting sick, I pretty much almost fell off my chair.

“Ummmm…this is a little awkward thing to bring up, but I noticed you were coughing…”

“Mmm?”

“Yeah, well, we’re *really* trying to stay healthy…so…could you maybe not touch my child today? Is that a weird thing to ask?”

Yes.

“I mean, I know I could just take him home now...but I’d hate to have him miss this class...and I just *really* need this hour to myself. It's just that as a family we are committed to staying healthy this winter.”

Because obviously other families don’t work collectively to stay booger-free. Dammit, that’s been our problem all along…a lack of unified commitment to resisting infection at all costs.

“Umm…well, I can’t really promise that I won’t touch your child. As their teacher I’m all over them during the class. I will try to reduce it, but it is almost impossible for me not to not touch the students. It’s my job to show them how to position their arms, legs, feet…”

“Yeah…maybe you could just not touch his hands? Or try to take Purell breaks during class? What about that? Could you do that?”

OMG. Are you for real?

“Hmm…OK, well, like I said, I can’t promise that will happen, but we’ll do our best to keep your son cootie-free.”

“Oh, that’s so great. I *really* appreciate you doing what you can. It’s just *so* important to us to stay healthy.”

Because again, it’s not important to anyone else in here. Nor is it important to realize that typically it’s the children fueling the Petri dish, not the teachers. By the way, your son is licking the practice mat right now.

“OK, well, just had to get that off my chest. I’m off to do a little shopping. See you after class!”

Looking forward to it, sister. Like, *so* much.