I'll never forget the first time my friend David was beaten one-on-one by his teenage son. David had played college ball for the UNC Tarheels and has always been a fierce competitor on the court. Even when little Austin was 8 years old, David never allowed an easy layup nor open jump shot. David would even issue a little trash talk now and then to fire his son up. Following that monumental loss, a sweaty and winded David simultaneously felt self-disappointment and fatherly pride. Austin beamed - knowing that he had earned the win.
Last month, Cassie kinda pulled the same thing on me. Calculating her after meal bolus, she accurately entered the carbohydrate intake into her insulin pump, before I even had a chance to fully cipher the amount for her. Her knowledge of carbohydrate counting now easily overshadows mine (I still cheat with the 2011 Calorie King periodically). Bruised ego aside, I'm happy that she can outdo me in this regard. She's becoming so much more independent. High fives all around.