Last night, on a Saturday night no less, I was not at a rink.
If you’re a long time reader here you may understand the significance of this. We’re raising rink rats here, and weekends are usually all about youth sports. And yes, they schedule games on Saturday nights. 🙂
I will begin my story with the happy ending: I’m home, no one was hurt, maimed, killed or sent to jail today despite the weather that could have caused all of the above, and I have tea and a pecan butter tart.
Still interested in my many mishaps? Read on, then…
Youth sports coaches are almost always moms and dads who have a kid on the team. This has been the case for both of my kids over the years in a multitude of sports which they play(ed).
Recently, I heard about a situation during a game that had me relating it to a parenting scenario. I didn’t personally witness the incident, but my partner was there and he outlined it to me later. He is the trainer on our boy’s hockey team and fills in as assistant coach when someone else is absent.
That particular situation made such an impression on me I decided to share it with you here.
Short version: My excellent suggestions were ignored by family members. Result was epic fails all day. 🙃
At end of day I jokingly tried to teach them my mantra (repeat after me: mom was right), but they refused (ha) and so I escaped with my 3rd glass of wine to the back porch after dinner. Left them to clean the kitchen (which I had to finish later in a somewhat, um…tipsy state. Ahem.)