I missed the whole thing.
I stayed home to make sure teenagers didn’t have sex on my couch, while rather attractive husband took Boy to the soccer tournament 4 hours away where these extraordinary, highly-scouted 12 year old phenoms need to travel to find any competition worth playing.
(That’s the official statement. My version is we get our ass kicked by the locals, so must drive far to end the season on a high note.)
But apparently two of our soccer moms went nose-to-nose with a YOU’RE A BITCH vs. YOU’RE A F*C$(#*G BITCH spit fest smack down and I MISSED THE WHOLE THING.
I don’t know if one is banging the other’s; if somebody forgot their Xanax, if it’s a family, soccer, school, kid, mental illness, coaching, PTA, booze, oxy, or town issue. I don’t know the build-up, background, storyline. I have no juicy details, no truths, no half-truths, no gossip, no nothing. Because I was not there and men don’t ask questions.
Damn him.
Thing is, that could have been, should have been me. Except rather attractive husband saved my ass 2 years ago when we realized soccer wasn’t a fad Boy would grow out of.
Instead of sitting in the beach-chair lineup on the sideline, I always sat behind the goal, in the shade, often with a book, away from the normal parents. Alone. Away from the running commentary that makes it difficult for me to keep my inside thoughts inside. It was far better that way.
Until my rather attractive husband did the math.
RAH: “Get up now and go sit your ass down with the other parents. Make friends. We have at least 7-10 years of spending every single weekend with these people. Go be nice.”
So I put down my book, picked up my iced coffee, and went, sat down, and played nice.
And made some pretty good friends, and a couple enemies, but so far, no one has screamed in my face about what a bitch I am, but that’s probably because they don’t read this blog.
How do I break this to you:
People don’t scream in your face that you’re a bitch…they silently whisper it.
xo
(I kid cuz I love you)
oh i know! whisper away! or my fav: tweet it. the quieter, more powerful whisper!
hahahaha you kill me girlfriend.
i’m so glad my inner city kids have no real interest in sports. i like hanging with moms, or at least i did, until i went to younger teen’s new high school orientation a few weeks ago and her friend’s mother spent the whole time glued to my ass bragging about her oldest kid getting her masters. the whole bloody time girl.
“Awwww, isn’t that special.” Channel your inner church lady when the bragfest begins.
well happened yesterday again as we waited for younger teen’s school play to begin. so i cut in by sharing with (lying to) her how i’ve been gassy for days and i’m really hoping i don’t drop one of those thinkers here. she excused herself to go to the bathroom and i didn’t see her again until after the show. LMAO that’s how my inner church lady rolls
*stinkers not thinkers. lol
Damn!!!! You would of given the best recap for us loyal readers!!!!
i know. the content wudda been priceless!
Rats! Inquiring moms want to know why the soccer grapevine has delivered no tasty tidbits on this to your inbox!!! A friend and I got a talking to at one soccer game because we cheered for the other team’s goalie for a good save (when we were winning…by a lot)…then she called her husband a pansy for slightly trying to hush her….ah soccer!
Oh my in box was buzzing! Must be a lot of nutjobs out there, cuz everyone thought they knew who I was talking about and nobody got it right! Apparently, this was no anomaly, but instead the norm …. sad, eh?
“Rather attractive husband” would have made the whole post for me… just tossed off like that. But I’m glad you didn’t stop there.
Rather attractive husband is amazed he doesn’t get his ass kicked for the stuff I write. But alas, we’ve got a 7 more years of potentiall ass-whup possibility!