Gabe was at Cold Stream today with his grandmother and siblings, enjoying a summer day.
There see some kids there his own age, so naturally there was cause to flex his muscles a bit and assert his male dominance. Gabe being my son, this of course took the form of a spelling bee. Heroic we’re not.
There was the usual back and forth.
“Betcha can’t spell ___”
“Oh yeah, I bet YOU can’t spell ___”
After a while, it must have gotten heated. I can just imagine the onlooking girls just popping into puberty watching this, the only thing lamer than a dance off.
Gabe had an idea.
“Can you spell chameleon?” he asked the other kid.
“Duh” came the reply. “I just don’t want to.”
Gabe knew he had him. After a bit of banter, the antagonist asked Gabe to prove HE could spell chameleon. He spelled: c-h-a-m-e-l-e-n. “I spelled it wrong on purpose, Dad. Then I asked him if it was right. It was the only way I could see if he really knew. “Duh” came the other kid.
“Wrong!!” Gabe happily shouted. “I misspelled it on purpose – you don’t know how to spell chameleon at all.”
He tells me the other kid was pretty angry. My hero.