Extra curricular sports, and how I don't want to be like my mother

My son started Flag football this past weekend. What fun. The best part is that My hubby put his name down for volunteering at the Community association, and since he was the only one to actually volunteer, he's now the coach for my son's team. 

But- He thinks since I only put down my e-mail address on the form, that I want to take part in the coaching experience, so I have been enlisted as the informal secretary and resident e-mailer, since I signed up only my e-mail address.... yay! well, whatever, gives me something else to do besides clean my already despicable immaculate house... 

They play on Saturdays and Mondays. This past Saturday's game went extremely well, each team had two touchdowns, and lots of fun. This Monday, however, was a different story.

Firstly, hubby was sick. And he never gets sick, so you can imagine how big a baby he is when he does get sick. He comes home around 1pm, and lets me know that I need to find a coach for tonight, cuz when he goes outside into the cold-ish air, he 'feels like he's going to throw up and pass out' *insert big whiny baby voice here*. That's my big strong man.....

So I e-mail around, and wouldn't you know, every dad wants to coach, or at least their wives' think they do. So I header down to the playing field, which this time is ALL THE WAY ACROSS TOWN, which in a city of 300,000, isn't really that far, it only takes 20 minutes to get anywhere, but looking for a specific field in a specific park in a new area of town is still confusing no matter where you are. I did find the park after a bit though,(yay for me and my mad directional skills!) so I lug all the equipment, my junior Peyton Manning, and myself down to what I assume is the right pitch. Luckily, all the parents found the same field that I did, so big plus points for me~! However, somehow our rival team failed to produce themselves, and judging by the area and field, that's not really surprising, but it still gave me a little glow of pride to know that even though our team is a bunch of spoiled little east-siders, they still showed up for the game, and then, stayed for the inevitable practice that ensued, since the replacement coaches and I decided that they should do something so as not to feel that they wasted their time. (and the spoiled little east-siders I'm talking about are the parents, as the kids aren't yet aware that they are over-privileged.)

Best line of the day from the parents: 'You would NOT BELIEVE how hard I had to search to find a decent coffee place over here! Do they even know what a Starbucks is?'

Best line of the day from the pseudo coaches: 'Ummm... so how do you play this? my wife made me come...'

Best line of the day from the kids: 'Aww, where's real Coach? I want to show him my snot-swing-back-play' ( proceeds to drool a loogie to the ground, then as it touches icky-grass and mud, suck it back up in a swinging fashion as he throws the ball right into one of the pseudo coaches nards. I'm not even shitting you! It was uber gross Fantastic a horrible indecency to the coach who totally did the classic America's Funniest Home Videos' thing, grabbing himself, falling over, and wheezing 'ohh my balls'!  which apparently is still only funny to me...)

All in all, not a bad way to spend an evening, and my sad litte sicko at home got a smile out of how, even though they've only had one game, he still made a lasting impression on the kids, and a good one, which is rare. (hubby has a way of sticking his foot in his mouth whenever he decides to open it)

Now if you'll excuse me, my littlest just managed to spew INSIDE my shirt, and it is currently trickling into my armpit...