My inspiration for the “…and growing” came from my brother Maurice, who called my son a “Flintstone kid, 10 million strong …and growing.” Now some of you may remember the advertising slogan, “We’re Flintstone kids…10 million strong… and growing.”
My son was “that kid.” He wanted Flintstone vitamins, wheat germ, and Grape-Nuts cereal. And, like a good mother, I went out and purchased all of them. That Grape-Nuts cereal, however, was so hard I almost cracked a tooth trying to eat it – that it almost made me second guess my actions. At the age of six, my son was eating wholesome food, exercising and taking Flintstone vitamins. Coaches would scout him and say “Look at that kid’s muscles.” “Boy, is he fast.”” I want that kid on my team.”
I would say to myself, “What muscles? What are they talking about?”
My brother would ask, “What are you feeding him; he’s a Flintstone kid, 10 million strong” and I would respond “Yeah I know…and growing.” Recently, at a Father’s Day dinner, my son was reflecting back on some time he spent with his grandfather when he was around 12 years old. My dad hit him in the chest and said, “Wha cha made of? Can you run?” He was challenging him and his lanky cousins to a race. My dad was sizing him up; he wanted to see who he was.
My son said “Yeah!”
For those readers who might need a translation or clearer understanding, my father was an All-State runner in Texas. His intention was to see if any of the boys had inherited his speed, his competitive drive and character. In other words, what are your gifts? The punch in the chest was not meant for a boy, but a man.
My father, with his southern roots, now in his sixties, stood bare chested and barefoot, wearing nothing but jeans, ready to “haul @$$!” My son and my two nephews stood ready for the count. My dad said, “I’ll give you a head start. On your mark, get set, GO!” He let them get half way to the end of the block, and then my dad ran – and there was nothing but smoke. I know what you are saying – “No he didn’t?” Yes, he did beat those 12-13 year old boys. “He’s a Flintstone, right?” He left those kids in his dust, barefooting it the whole way.
We laughed around the table and realized that we came from a Flintstone family.
Allow me to sit with you. Take your shoes off. Become a Flintstone and put your feet to the pavement and make the investment in tomorrow – let’s raise high performers today, because they are 10 million strong…And growing.