Opening Day, Stream of Consciousness Style

Okay… before we delve deep into my sunburnt noggin for the details of my day, I need to say THANK YOU THANK YOU A ZILLION TIMES THANK YOU! At the moment I’m in second, but the fact is, when I posted my shameless begging for your attention this morning, I was, like, LAST, and really embarrassed for Whim and Charlie. You guys gave them a little somethin’ somethin’, and I’m no longer ashamed to hold my head up with the other kids. Thank you–every one who voted, everyone who said, “Good luck, kid, even though I haven’t read it!” You do know how to make a girl feel loved…

And now to the soccer fields… what follows is, more or less, what it was like in my head from seven in the morning until four o’clock this afternoon… please don’t run away screaming.

***

Really? Is it August? For cryin’ out loud, it’s fricking sixty degrees out here! Here, Zoomboy, have my jacket. Yes, I love you too. No, you may not lift up my shirt as we line up for parade! Bye Squish–happy parade! Yeah, Chicken– that’s your team lining up, why, do you feel a pressing need to be there? Good. Oh, is the parade starting? Okay, everyone in positions…

Oh gees… did I forget to put on my tennishoes? This is gonna be a tough day in my flip-flops–oh, wait, here they come!

Yeah, that’s my son–the one walking backwards and trailing at the end of his team, why do you ask! And there’s Squishy, waving like the Queen she is. Yes she’s a girl. See the pink earrings? And the COMPLETE; FEMININE ADORABILITY!!!! Sheesh.

Okay, Mate, what’s on the schedule? Lessee…

Everyone’s got kickathons at nine-thirty–you get Squishy, I get Zoomboy, Chicken gets Chicken. Oh gees… how many times am I going to have to haul my fat ass across this entire soccer field/junior high complex in flip-flops? Don’t ask. That way lies madness.

Watch out, Zoomboy! Coach wasn’t ready for you to kick that with your goofy foot! Six goals in thirty-seconds, is awesome, really! No, it wasn’t the lowest score. The four year old got six too. Okay, Chicken’s game–let’s go let’s go let’s go… no, you can’t do the waterslide now, it’s only sixty-five degrees outside! *dial Mate* Dude, I’m here at Chicken’s game–whereyat? Good. When you come visit, bring sandwiches and water! *hangs up*

Assume position. Sock out. Let the game begin.

GO CHICKEN GO! Awwww… that’s okay… it’s only the first game. Everyone’s going to wipe the floor at least once today. Game over, Squish’s turn.

Oh gees… how many times am I going to have to haul my fat ass across this fucking field complex in flip flops? don’t ask… that way lies madness!

Assume positions. Sock out. Let the game begin.

Go Squish go! No, no… not to the bounce house–I swear, you’ll get bounce house time later. Okay, the game’s over. I guess later is now. NO, DON’T TAKE OFF THE SHIN GUARDS!!! FOR CHRIST’S SAKE, WE’LL NEVER GET THEM ON AGAIN! Okay, go foor about ten minutes. Then we’ve got a game.

Oh holy jeebers… how many times am I going to have to haul my fat ass across this five soccer fields in flip flops? For fucks sake stop asking!

Assume position. Sock out. Let the game begin.

Go Zoomboy, Go! In the right direction! With your team! FACE THE BALL! Hey, Mate–thanks for the sandwich and the water! Yeah. Do they have one person extra for Zoomboy’s team? Yeah, you wish. In fact see that big kid with the faux-hawk? Yeah–he’s not ours. He’s a pity loan from the other coach. Has Zoomboy been playing like this all day? Yeah? You think he’s a warm-body? You wish. Mostly, we just hope the opposition trips on him, because otherwise, he’s in our guys way. Yeah… yeah, I know. He’s the little gold fish swimming happily and erratically through the big tide of big gray fish. He’s my Zoomboy… DAMMIT, ZOOMBOY, GET YOUR FINGER OUT OF YOUR NOSE! Holy Crap– I used to think that was only an expression when parents yelled that on the soccer field. Yup. There’s another goal. THAT’S OKAY, WOLF PACK, YOU’RE DOING GREAT!!!

Squish’s game next? We’ll see you there! *smooches*

Yay, Zoomboy! Let’s go watch your sister play! Yeah– there’s time for the bounce house! NO, CRAP, DON’T TAKE OFF YOUR SHIN GUARDS! Are you kidding? No waterslide– you have a game in forty-five minutes–it will take that long to get your shin guards back on. We’ll go after your one-thirty game. *sotto voice to waterslide attendant* So, when do you shut down? Two O’clock? Oh Crap!

Shit.

Okay, Zoomboy–start getting your shin guards off–I’ll go get your other clothes–you’ve got ten minutes in the waterslide after we watch your sister play! NO, DON’T TELL HER YOU’RE GOING! She doesn’t have time for the waterslide, honey, you’ll only freak her out.

How many times have I schlepped my fat ass across this fucking field? Don’t ask. In that way lies madness.

‘kay, Squish–you ready for your game? It’s running late, we thought we’d see it! No, no, honey, don’t cry. No! Please… baby, I’ve got to take Zoomboy back to his game! It’s your last game! I swear! You have ten minutes for the bounce house! PLease… baby… baby, I’ve got to go! Fuck. Mate! Mate! Mate! COACH!!! *points to Squish having giant squishy meltdown because of her third soccer game in sixteen hours* Dude, I’ve got to get Zoomboy across the field, and Chicken’s game starts at the same time. *kisses for Squish* *kisses for Mate* C’mon, Zoomboy… shhhh!! I told you not to mention that! No, Squish–we’re going to his game, I swear!

Jesus fricking Christamas. Fucking field. Fucking fat ass. Fucking flip flops. FUCKING YARN BAG THAT WEIGHS FUCKING SEVENTY ZILLION POUNDS.

Okay, Zoomboy–let’s change our clothes. yeah, the portajohns are gross. Let’s duck into a corner and get naked here. No one will see. HOly crap–for once, that worked!!! Okay, shinguards off! Go! Go again! Go again! Okay, buddy, only three more times to… OH SHIT! Don’t worry–your face blocked the fall–keep going, you only have five more minutes left! *breathes sigh of relief* With any luck, he won’t see the bruise until his teacher reports us to CPS.

All right… frickin’ shin guards… oughtabeafrickinlaw… Nope! Here we go! Gotcha here on time! Out to the field.

Assume the position. Sock out. Let the game begin.

Wait a second–where’s the ref. No ref. We’ve got to wait here for the ref? I haven’t seen Zoomboy that focussed since his last tantrum, and now we’ve got to wait for the frickin’ ref?

Well, the boys are sitting down out on the field in their field positions. Oh look–Zoomboy’s a forward. He’s in the circle around the center. That’s good. Wait. What are they doing now? i don’t know, but Zoomboy’s leading…

Oh holy shit. ARe those kids AIRBENDING OUT OF BOREDOM?

Looks like. Jesus. Wait until I tell Mate!

Oh–hey, Mate! You drove the car around?

OH YAY! I DON’T HAVE TO WALK ACROSS THE FUCKING FIELD AGAIN WITH MY FAT ASS AND MY FUCKING FLIP FLOPS!

That’s awesome.

Okay–you go watch Chicken, I’ll take the kids to Mcdonald’s after the game for sodas and dinner. Yeah.

Go Zoomboy Go!

And we’re done? Are we really done? Let’s go to the… crap…

Fucking field. Fucking fat ass. Fucking flip flops. FUCKING KEYS IN MATE’S FUCKING POCKET! Just plain fuck.

Okay, NOW are we in the car? Great! Squish, what do you want at McDonald’s?

Squish?

Squish?

Zoomboy? Oh. You’re right. Squish is asleep!

Hey… what’s wrong with the… oh, for fuck’s sake! Is the AC busted? Fuck. Well, *brightening* at least it’s only eighty degrees outside. Here, Chicken, here, Mate, have a soda. How was the game?

Oh… sorry, Chicken… well, everyone has to wipe the floor sometime.

Omigod… is the family really 0 for 6? I think I won’t mention that out loud… it will only depress Mate.

Home? Old movie? *happy sigh* Yeah.

An hour later, at home, with McDonald’s and some old television…

Oh. My. God. Really? Do we all look like the part of Richard Dreyfus that saw the space ship in Close Encounters? Yup. All except Zoomboy, who looks like he didn’t see any sun at all.

*sigh* Who wants ice cream?

And Monday school starts for EVERYBODY. And that, folks, is when the REAL crazy begins!