The alarm was set for 4.50am. Local boy, James Magnussen, was swimming in the 100m final at the Olympics. We debated heading into town to watch the race on the big screen with other dedicated fans, but turns out we are not that dedicated. Instead we stumble from bed to lounge. Princess Child is using the dog as a hot water bottle. Hippie Child cannot be spoken to, no really don’t attempt it, the only response is an angry grunt from under the doona, clearly not a morning person
It’s pitch black outside and cold , but we’re ready to cheer.
They are off, he’s looking good. They turn. He accelerates. He’s in the lead. We are excited. The Yank starts to catch up. They are neck and neck. They hit the wall. Princess Child calls it a tie.
But it’s not. Just an inch taller that’s all he needed to be. He’s been beaten by 0.01 second. How cruel is that?
But let’s put this into perspective, the kid from Port Macquarie just WON A SILVER MEDAL AT THE OLYMPICS.
The children head back to bed. No commitment from either of them. This is why I’ll never be the mother of an Olympian. They struggle to get up early to WATCH the Olympics let alone train for four years to COMPETE.
Have you been getting up early/staying up late to watch the Olympics? What’s your favourite part?