Sometime last year Chago had decided that he didn't really like it anymore [read: was getting in trouble a lot for squirreling around] and wanted to get out. So we took him out.
Then a few months later when he realized that they were doing some pretty fun stuff (at least according to his sister -- who, by the way, is much more atheletically inclined), he decided he wanted back in. So we put him back in with the caveat that this was it. No more opting in/opting out.
So, yesterday was Thursday. On the way to school, just as we're pulling up, and I'm reminding them that I've got to get going because I've got an early morning meeting, he decides to tell me that he's got a meeting, too.
"Oh?" I say. "Who with?"
"With Nick," he replies.
"Nick, your gymnastics instructor?" I ask.
"Yes," he says as he climbs out of the truck.
"To discuss what, Bubba?" I ask him.
"To let him know that I will no longer be going to gymnastics," he says very matter-of-factly.
"Oh, really?" I ask.
"Yes," he continues. "I need to let him know that today will be my last day."
So, I said okay thinking that he was just playing the I-have-a-meeting-like-Mama game (and because I was, of course, running late). But when I picked them up from school yesterday afternoon and asked them how their day was, he proceeded to inform me that his meeting with Nick went very well, that he had successfully removed himself from gymnastics, and that there was no need for us to worry about it anymore.
So...I guess that's that. The boy has spoken.