Still catching my breath after a very busy holiday weekend. I love a good time and the past three days were chock full of fun. Whether it was celebrating my mother-in-law’s birthday or hanging out at a remote general store with the kids devouring soft serve ice cream — all was good. Until…you knew there had to be one little but (not to be confused with my big butt) thrown in…..
Sunday marked the end of the flag football season. I’m partial to sports, whether participating or on the sidelines, so the close of each season is rather traumatic. Now if I were to complain, which is so not my style, I might mention that some of the plays were overly complicated – leading to turnovers, losses, and excessive time off of the game clock. Young kids sometimes just need straightforward direction. As I watched my older son’s team get gobsmacked I made the comment that I would love to coach his team in the fall. This was met on the sidelines by laughter and incredulous looks from my husband, father- in- law and family friend. Now I know this is traditionally a man’s sport…but we’re talking flag not tackle football. Honestly I think I’d be darn good. We’d have a whole lotta fun and I think we’d win a whole lotta games. This is a non issue because my children would so not be on board with me in the huddle. It’s fine to use me in the backyard for practice purposes but game day they don’t want me with a clipboard and whistle in my hands. Their loss….I’m telling you I’d rock!
If you see me writing a football story next you’ll know why. Those who can’t do something must compensate by writing about it!!!