We taped the men's Olympic skating last night so that Kevin could watch it; Alex had told him it would be like dance on ice, so he wanted to see it. This morning, knowing the results, we let him watch Evan Lysacek's performance before leaving for school, and for most of the ride it was this:

How did he know where the walls were so he wouldn't run into them? How hard does he work out? Is the jumping part hard? How come he doesn't fall when he comes down from a big spinning jump on just on ice skate? How many years did it take him to learn how to do that? Does he get to pick his own music? Do you think he knows about ballet and dancing? Does he get to meet a lot of girls?

Char finally sighed and turned to say, You're not taking skating lessons, Kevin.

He wasn't interested in the idea of learning to skate; he is just a curious kid who sees how the skating he saw can parallel the dance he's interested in. As soon as he was home from school he watched the rest of the competition, and sat there riveted. I mostly watched him watch, and realized that where I see a guy in a questionable costume flitting around the ice, he sees beauty and grace.

He watched through the medal ceremony, and mused that that blond guy looks really upset that he didn't win.

I had to agree; Evgeny Plushenko stood on the podium looking like he was chewing on sour grapes.

He was good, but he wobbled a couple of times and the guy that won didn't.

I wouldn't know a wobble from a transition on skates, so I just agreed with him.

What a douche.

That's my boy.