Men must be born with the competitive gene

Today was Master R's first sports day at nursery. I was told during the nursery tour that the parent race is a bit of a highlight so I'd prewarned Mr M. We were a little late to the sports day as I had an osteopath appointment (my poor back is so sore!). But we arrived just in time for the legendary parent/toddler race.

Mr M was a bit late lining up as Master R didn't want to part with his juice. So the front line were already in formation ready for the "go!". So Mr M didn't even wait for the go and sprinted on the "set" as did the rest of the pack. At the first bend there were three clear leaders (see first picture). There was jostling, pushing into shrubs and even tripping! One father was too intimidated by Mr M’s size and backed off leaving two leaders. Mr M was leading until the other father cut the corner (see second picture). Then Mr M pushed for the finish line and eventually won.

As you’ll note in picture 2 Mr M had very little regard for the wellbeing of Master R and my poor little baby was being thrown around while Mr M, fueled by masculine aggression, fulfilled his ambitions of a 1st place. Mr M was genuinely surprised at the end that Master R was not as thrilled as he was. It was all I could do to stop Mr M doing a Ricky Gervais “The Office” style victory lap singing “We are the champions… no time for loosers…”.

Needless to say Master R only wanted mummy for a couple of hours after that race and was not interested in any kind of celebrations. I meanwhile was mortified and am not sure that I can take Master R to that nursery anymore. Think I’ll have to go on the waiting list for another.