Once upon a time, my daughter made it into the finals of her middle school spelling bee. There were 18 finalists out of a student body of over 800. I was impressed that she was in the finals, but certainly not surprised.
My daughter was devoted and studious in the weeks leading up to the event. I dictated words to her every single night. There were lots and lots and lots of words to learn. Some of the words were very tricky, like lieutenant and chlorofluorocarbon. It was tedious and time-consuming. But my daughter cracked on and fit in spelling words between all of her extracurriculars.
She was tired.
Finally, the big day arrived. We started the morning with a nourishing mound of bacon for breakfast.
Just before lunchtime, I drove myself to the school to watch my daughter compete.
Round after round I watched her compete. Round after round these kids just kept correctly spelling words. Round after round I sweated through my shirt and jacket. Soon there were only 10 kids left. Then 6. Then 5. Then 3.
I felt like I might pee in my pants.
And then there were 2. My daughter was one of them! They went a few more rounds until finally...the other kid misspelled a word. My daughter walked trepidatiously to the microphone. The final word was dictated. If she spelled it correctly, she would win the spelling bee!
I sat on the edge of my chair. I nearly vomited as I waited for the winning word to be called. At last, the word echoed from the loudspeakers: equality.
In this moment, I knew that my daughter was going to win the spelling bee.
And win she did!
A week later, she and the runner-up were recognized at the school pep assembly and were awarded trophies. The principal announced my daughter's name as, "Ava Maze." He definitely wouldn't win a spelling bee.
Now my daughter will move on to the district spelling bee in January. And we will all live happily ever after.
The End.