Switched at Birth?
I've mentioned my friend Patti here before. Patti's fit and athletic and so freaking nice you can't even really hate her for it. In high school she was off biking and running and skiing and swimming while I was at band practice and choir practice and piano lessons and singing lessons.
Patti's oldest kid is taking singing lessons and singing in the Kiwanis choir. My oldest kid is a jock. Patti and I spend a lot of time laughing our asses off at this situation -- we'd be laughing at each other more if this didn't also entail laughing at ourselves. Patti can't carry a tune in a basket and I'm fit for helping Angus drag his hockey bag into the dressing room, and then it's a humiliating round of me trying to put knee pads on his elbows and crap like that until he dismisses me while hoping nobody notices that we're related.
Remember how I let my son get freak hair for hockey playoffs? Today I took him to hockey and my Dad came to watch the game. He got his second hat trick in the last four games, and the other two games he got one goal each. The team has 21 playoff goals and over a third of them are his. And I always tell people he's an awesome baseball player but hockey is just for fun. I told him if the flaming fauxhawk has the same effect on his marks he can keep it forever.
But no matter how much I try -- and I really do try -- I can't tie his skates with my warped-by-pregnancy wimpy hands, and I can't remember what the hell offside means. Hey Patti, can I take Penny to choir practice this week?
Patti's oldest kid is taking singing lessons and singing in the Kiwanis choir. My oldest kid is a jock. Patti and I spend a lot of time laughing our asses off at this situation -- we'd be laughing at each other more if this didn't also entail laughing at ourselves. Patti can't carry a tune in a basket and I'm fit for helping Angus drag his hockey bag into the dressing room, and then it's a humiliating round of me trying to put knee pads on his elbows and crap like that until he dismisses me while hoping nobody notices that we're related.
Remember how I let my son get freak hair for hockey playoffs? Today I took him to hockey and my Dad came to watch the game. He got his second hat trick in the last four games, and the other two games he got one goal each. The team has 21 playoff goals and over a third of them are his. And I always tell people he's an awesome baseball player but hockey is just for fun. I told him if the flaming fauxhawk has the same effect on his marks he can keep it forever.
But no matter how much I try -- and I really do try -- I can't tie his skates with my warped-by-pregnancy wimpy hands, and I can't remember what the hell offside means. Hey Patti, can I take Penny to choir practice this week?
Comments
Haha, seems like it's really impossible to hate Patti!
She seems more of the sporty type. Hmm, I think it would be awesome if you got a mutual friend who excels both in sports and music. Now that is something!
I like your son's hair. Let him keep it. It's distracting to kids. Also, the darker or aggressive the shade (red or black), the meaner the look and the more intimidating it is for the kids playing in the other team.
It sounds like you have a rising star on your hands. Awesome.
I know offside is bad. I think. All you need to know, right?
You're absolutely right, our children's diatmetric talents provide endless entertainment for you and me.
BTW, I've never been coordinated enough to do team sports, so I'd be as lost as you are with hockey rules and equipment.
And I desperately want my children to participate in music of some sort music--vocal or instrumental. For a jock, I'm a nerd.
I can't even go watch, because I know I'll start screaming STOP HITTING MY BABY! And then we'd both be asked to leave.