((So, If you ever tried to teach little children kata, you would understand. Thanks to Cyn for reminding me of this incident at my dojo))
He had tripped up again. Six year old Michelangelo held back tears as he left the dojo. His brothers were all getting this kata thing down. His brothers weren't having the kinda trouble that he was. His feet just didn't seem to want to go in the right place and he was always striking with the wrong hand. Sensei said he was just thinking too much. Leonardo joked that he could see smoke coming from Mike's ears.
It wasn't fair. He knew WHAT to do, his body just wouldn't cooperate with him. He pointedly ignored his brothers' good natured (and some not so good natured) teasing and wandered to his room. The little turtle needed some time alone. Mike sat down on his bed and stared at his hands and feet. He closed his eyes and mentally ran through the kata. He tried to picture it in his head.
It was amazing. The turtle in his head could do the kata perfectly. Mike could just imagine how happy Splinter would be if the REAL Mikey could do it just as perfectly. He stared at his hands and feet again.
"Stupid right and left," he grumbled. "It'd be just easier if Sensei pointed and said THAT one."
Mikey wouldn't admit to himself that Sensei did point...tap...even place...the correct foot in the correct spot. And Mike still got it wrong. He just didn't get it. Mike sighed. There had to be something he could do. Something...anything.
All of the sudden the answer came to him. He just needed a little help! Rummaging through his stash of art stuff, he found a black magic marker. In even, neat print, he wrote a R on his hand and then on the corresponding foot. Switching the marker to his other hand, he wrote a shaky L on the opposite appendages.
"There!" He was ready for afternoon practice.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Splinter watched his four young sons line up for kata. He studied Michelangelo carefully.
The rat knew that this youngest son did not enjoy katas very much. He was still having trouble with rights and lefts; add in stepping, striking, kicking and stances...it was just a little too much for him to absorb. He would start giving him short, private lessons to help starting tomorrow.
However, Splinter couldn't help but notice the eager look in Michelangelo's eyes. Almost as if his student was ready for whatever his sensei would throw at him today.
Splinter counted out the first move and all his sons moved in the proper direction, with the proper foot...except Michelangelo.
"Switch your stance, Michelangelo," Splinter directed patiently.
Mike's eyes widened in protest. "Wait! I stepped with the right foot!"
"You were supposed to step with the left foot, Michelangelo," the sensei explained. "Now..."
"But I did step with the left foot!" Mike interrupted. He looked at the little L drawn on his foot.
Splinter sighed. "No, My Son, you stepped with the right foot."
"I know I stepped with the right foot! It was the left foot." Mike nodded to himself, proud that he got his father to admit he had been in error.
There was silence for a moment. It looked like everyone had smoke coming from their ears as they tried to understand what Mike was saying. The young turtle glanced from his brother to his master. They all had a confused expression.
"Look," Mike said holding out his hands, and then his feet for his father to see. "I wrote them on my feet and hands so I would remember. "
Splinter blinked in surprise, carefully taking Mike's right hand with the big letter L neatly printed on it. He tried hard not to smile. "Michelangelo..." He hesitated glancing to his other sons. He did not want to embarrass Michelangelo. "Let us just...skip kata for today."
