THE SQUIRT GUN BANDIT

squirt gun banditI didn’t know she had emotional scars from that incident… at least not until she was a senior in high school. I was trying to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. As the coach, I was trying to prepare the girls mentally for an upcoming state championship lacrosse game. My goal was to help the girls bond and use past experiences to their advantage; scars from a short past to use as motivation in the game, but  more importantly, the game of life…

I was a little surprised how open and honest the majority of the girls were about their emotional scars. When I got to our oldest, who was one of the captains and is tougher than nails, I didn’t expect her to share much. I figured she’d come up with some generic scar. “What about you?” I asked with a grin.

She didn’t hesitate, she blurted, “You broke my squirt gun!” I chuckled thinking she was half-joking. She quickly turned away as the smile melted off  my face. I continued to the next girl to share her story as my mind raced back to “The Squirt Gun Incident.”

She was around seven years old and was using her squirt gun on me… I guess I was the easiest target. “Hey! – Knock it off!” I demanded. She’d wait a few minutes and come back and start again. “I mean it!” I growled to make her stop. Sure enough, a few minutes later the little menace with the squirt gun – I was regretting having bought her – was back in action and unloading her H2O ammo on me again.

“Hey! – I mean it! – Stop squirting me!” She grinned a devious grin… Not sure where she got that, but I recognized it and continued, “If you squirt me with that thing one more time – I’m gonna take it from you and break it into pieces! – Understand?” The oldest turned away fairly unscathed but got the point.

About ten minutes later the squirt gun desperado appeared for yet another showdown! “Don’t do it! – I told you! – I’ll break it!” She looked ever cocky and sure of herself as she began to soak me again with surprising accuracy. I lunged for her… She screamed with terror and delight as she began to flee like a bandit.

She didn’t get one or two steps before a younger version of myself overtook her and snatched the squirt gun out of her double clutched hands. I was surprised how much effort it took to crumble the plastic squirt gun as I walked to the trash can. As soaked as I was it looked like Kenz was gonna catch up with her tears…

I felt bad… While it broke my heart, I thought I needed to follow through with my promise. I also learned not to draw such deep lines in the dirt with our girls… Maybe I’d conveniently forgot about the squirt gun incident. She didn’t and never will. She knows I love her and I’m not perfect, but she knows I always tried to do my best, just like she will. We don’t hide from our mistakes and missteps – we learn from them…

Yeah, my theory worked… we won another state championship … The grown up Squirt Gun Bandit scored the most goals, had the most assists, and was named MVP of the league her senior year…

I feel sorry for anyone who tries to take the new 10mm pistol I just got her…