SCREAMING FOR SOCCER!

What Now?

Yesterday the girls' fall micro-soccer season began. Both of my girls love soccer, well..my oldest loves playing soccer and my youngest loves putting on the uniform and the after game snacks. As in past seasons we volunteered to help coach with our friends who's two daughters are best buddies with our two girls, that way they could play on the same team (the oldest girls play on one team and the youngest girls play on another). We showed up a little early so the kids could all meet and talk before the first game. I walked K, our oldest, over to her field and got her set up (which she really doesn't need anymore, but I still like to pretend I am needed in this respect). My wife and I then wait for our coaching friend at the field R will be playing at. And we wait...and wait...and wait. It seems she is running a little late so we gather up the kids so we can get the game going. Just before the first kick she comes screaming in with both of her girls in tow. She recently took a new job and so her being a little late is no big surprise. She looked a little frazzled, but my wife was there to help so I ran over to watch K's game.

At halftime of each of the games my wife and I try to switch so we can watch each girl. I ran back over to R's field to make the switch...that is when all holy hell broke loose. Our friend, the coach, was trying to console her daughter before the start of the second half (the coaches are on the field with the kids in our little league)...and that little girl was having nothing to do with that. It was clear she wanted her mom, she wanted to go home, and she didn't care who knew it. So coach mom ran back onto the field followed by her screaming daughter. And when I say screaming I don't mean just screaming. I mean she was screaming like her hair was on fire. So coach mom is trying to coach, trying to settle her daughter down and trying not to loose her mind. Thinking I could help I yelled across the field to her to see if she wanted me to take over coaching duties. She said no and continued this craziness. Another mother of the team who also knows the coach mom and her daughter tried, unsuccessfully, to calm this child down. Now, I have never met the devil, but I swear it was possessing this little girl at that moment. I even think her voice dropped several octaves and steam started pouring out of her ears while her face turned the shade of a firetruck. I could tell coach mom was about to loose it...and I mean in a big way. I can't imagine what her day was like before this, but if there was ever going to be a chance of a soccer mom coach going postal this was it. As I surveyed the scene I did overhear the devil child say she wanted to watch her sister's game. Thinking fast, for me anyway, I told her I would take her over to watch the other game...and, after giving me a look that shook me to my very core, she agreed. I ran over to the other field and dropped her off with my wife who was watching K's game. She seemed to mellow out and all was good from there on.

After both games my wife went to talk to coach mom and all coach mom could do it hug my wife and cry. I felt so bad for her...clearly this was the topper to a pretty shitty day. As the kids all enjoyed their after game snacks we talked about upcoming games and schedules. Coach mom was coming down some and devil daughter seemed to have been released from her possession. Our next game is tomorrow....might be a good one to skip.

PEACE OUT DADS!

That kid is gonna be a d-bag when he grows up!

WHAT NOW?

Two warnings before you read this post:

1. If you are offended by course language you should probably stop now, I feel a rant coming on.
2. If you think all small children are god's creatures and can do no wrong, you better also skip this one.

OK, let's get this party started. Today was my youngest daughters end of the school year picnic. This was a big deal for her because next year she starts kindergarten and thus ends our need to pay for any kind of childcare during the school year (can you say mini-raise!). So, like any good part-time-stay-at-home Dad I volunteer to go with the group and help out. As a general rule I try to stay away from these type of functions because a) I don't like most other little kids, strange for a parent I know...and b) I really don't like most of the other parents at this preschool. It would take a long post for me to really get into details about that, but let's just say they are not really my type of people, good or bad.

So, here I am at the annual "kids going crazy and teachers looking homicidal" picnic, trying to keep an eye on other kids while really only concerned with mine, and I notice one of her classmates acting like a...well, like a douche bag. He is the kind of kid you know will be a douche bag when he is a teenager, and a douche bag when he is a young adult, and more than likely a douche bag when he is older and having little douche bags of his own. It's not that hard to pick them out. I instantly want to pick this little shit up by the scruff of his neck and drop kick him into the nearby game of parachute lift going on a few feet away (do you remember that...getting all the kids around a parachute and having them flip it around like a bed sheet and then ducking underneath it and making a mushroom...I loved that game).

I take a deep breath and tell this little boy politely to please stop doing what he is doing and he shoots me a look like "Fuck you old man!" and then walks away. Why the hell do I volunteer for this torture. I stroll over to the picnic shelter for a little adult time and start a pleasant conversation with one of the many moms there helping (I am the only adult male there...great in a bar, not so hot at the preschool picnic) and then one of my least favorite parents strolls up and attempts to join in...who the hell is this space invader. Is she getting her rules of engagement from that little shit giving me the finger from the swing set? Frick and frack!

Other than that everyone had a lovely time and the picnic was a complete success...now I must drink myself into a coma!

PEACE OUT DADS!