After the test was over, everyone was talking and taking pictures.
“Congratulations,” Madison said.
“You too,” I said, pointing to her green belt.
“Can I see it?” she asked.
I held out the patch, which was a small white rectangle with a red border and the words SPIRIT AWARD embroidered in the middle.
“That’s so cool,” Madison said. “I’m jealous. He almost never gives patches to white belts.”
“But I’m a yellow belt now,” I reminded her.
She laughed. “Oh yeah.”
Our parents walked up. Madison’s dad spoke first. “Well done, ladies!”
“Yes, congratulations,” Mom added.
Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”
Madison introduced her father and then announced that she was hungry. Her dad offered to take her out to eat to celebrate.
“Can we go out to eat to celebrate, too?” I asked Mom.
“Sure. Why not? You must be starving, too, after all that work,” she said.
“Well, bye,” Madison said to me. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Okay, see ya,” I told her.
I hated taking off my new yellow belt, but I had to change before going to lunch. I folded it carefully and put it on top of my dobok inside my gym bag. Mom and Dad were waiting outside of the bathroom for me.
At the restaurant, I got two orders of chicken nuggets and a large pop. (Mom found a booth with padded seats for me.) Mom, Dad, and I talked about the test and where I should I hang up my broken board.
As I was finishing off the last of my fries and ketchup, Mom pulled a yellow envelope out of her purse.
“Here,” she said. “This is for you.”
Inside, there was a congratulations card. On the outside was a Mr. Potato Head and the inside said, Way to go, I-da-ho!
There was also a gift card to the local mall. For fifty dollars!
I looked up at Mom in shock.
She shrugged. “I have some overtime coming to me. Once your tailbone has completely healed, I’ll take the whole day off. I thought we could go shopping. Just us girls. No cell phones this time.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I told her.
“Yes,” Mom said. “I do. And besides, I want to.”
I blinked back the tears that came without warning.
“Got any ideas of what you’d like to buy?” Dad asked.
The kicking shield I’d made out of Sam’s old quilt and duct tape popped into my mind. I thought about what it would be like to have a real one. I bet we could find a used one on the internet.
“A few,” I said.
Mom raised her eyebrows. “Really? Do they involve a certain cake-decorating kit for a certain fall class?”
“Well, maybe I could save some of the money for that,” I said. “I think I should just keep practicing at home for a while, though.”
“But I thought you wanted to be a cake decorator,” Mom said.
“I do. And I’m going to be,” I told her. “In fact, could we stop on the way home and get some ingredients? I have this great idea for a cake in the shape of a broken board.”
“Of course!” Dad said.
“What made you change your mind about the class?” Mom asked before she took a sip of her drink.
“I just wanna stick with taekwondo, too, if that’s okay.”
Mom coughed and sputtered. “Went down the wrong way,” she squeaked, waving her cup.
Dad handed her a napkin, then turned to me and grinned. “I think we could probably work something out.”
“Cool,” I said. “Because a good martial artist never quits.”