Like A Glove

I sometimes have bad dreams, nightmares really. Back in 'tha day,' high school, I'm sure they consisted of failing a test, being naked in front of the school or getting busted for sleeping in class. I can't really remember the bulk of them. However, there is one I can remember very clearly.

Showing up to softball practice &/or game without a necessary item; cleats, sliders, sliding leg, uniform, socks, hair tie, favorite bat OR my glove. There is nothing worse than using another person's glove. It's like wearing another person's underwear! "OOO, GROSS!! Who does that?!!" You ask? My point exactly! NO ONE! It's foreign, unheard of, like speaking jibberish or Louisianian. It doesn't make sense!

A month or so ago, I signed Chloe up for T-ball. The girl isn't a real sports phenom, I doubt I was at that age either, but I thought & possibly gave a shoulder shrug, "Why not?"

We got "the call" last week from "the coach." "The call" came in to Matt's phone, which in turn he answered and could not tell me anything other than, "There is a Parent's Meeting next Thursday, field 5 at 6:30."  Ok, that's good, those are great details. (I later learn an email was to have been sent out, but we never got that. Nor did he come away with a name of "the coach.")

So we roll in to the "Parent's Meeting" at 6:30. All the parent's are gathered around a woman, I can only assume is "the coach," papers in hand and they are nearly done with this "Parent's Meeting." In my mind, I wonder "what happened to 6:30?" I begin surveying the other children and see they all have their hair up, tennis shoes on, pink 'special' helmets and a glove. I turn to Chloe and survey her; hair down, Crocs on, no helmet and oh ya, no glove. SWEET! Then I survey the parent's and begin labeling in the "Going to be a screamer" and "Not going to be a screamer" categories, respectfully. If you've been around a ball field anywhere in the world, you know the type. If you don't know they type, go ahead and place yourself in the "Going to be a screamer category," respectfully.

As soon as the "Parent's Meeting" was over, which was when we walked up. The kids were called to the field for a practice I did not know about. I look at Matt, he looks at me and we both just laugh. I'm 99% sure the parent's in my "Going to be a screamer" category were placing us in the "Slacker parents who know nothing about the game of softball" category, respectfully. (Thankfully, one of the Dad's, who used to work with Matt, brought his son and the son brought a glove. Chloe used that.)

So Chloe did her thing and she actually did much better than I predicted. I told Matt on the way that I was prepared to lose our money as I expect she'll hate it and want to put her dresses back on and remove those awful tennis shoes. She surprised me though! I think it's going to be a fun month, at least for me and the "Going to be a screamer" parents. Don't worry, I don't fall in that category..... yet. I'll save my screaming for high school sports. hehe

Once the practice disguised as the "Parent's Meeting" was over, we loaded the mini with our very cranky children and headed home. Pull in the drive, unload the mini and our very cranky children. Matt asks, "You have the keys?" The answer to that question is usually "Yes, yes I do." Tonight it was, "No."

We found them though.
In the door.
And we left it wide open.