Saturday, November 7, 2009
I always looked with pity those parents who were stuck on the sidelines all Saturday morning, in the rain, cold, blazing heat. I would cruise on by in my dry/warm/cool car thanking my lucky stars that I was not one of them...yet. I knew the day was coming, but I figured that maybe Ed could take over that aspect of parenting, and I could stay at home. Then E started soccer in kindergarten, and I found that I couldn't really stay in the comfort of my home in good conscience while I made my 5 year old go out and brave the elements for an hour of running. If I was going to put her through torture, the least I could do was cheer her on. And she did think it was torture, so after serving her time and putting in two years, she was allowed to move on to other pursuits while we had a blessed year of soccer free Saturdays. (Can you tell I am not a big sports fan?)
And then it was N's turn. The first few weeks were pleasant enough, with sun, moderate temperatures and our whole family went out to the field to support him. And then it started to cool down, and we had a couple of rainy Saturdays. So there I sat, that parent, huddled on the sidelines in my canvas chair, trying to shield my body as well as KK's with the umbrella, cheering for my sodden son as he chased the ball. N doesn't seem to mind the weather, and cheerfully heads out to play each Saturday. He seems to enjoy the game, so I have a feeling we have many years ahead of us. Even though I don't love the game, I love the player.