Army of Mom

So this is how liberty dies ... with thunderous applause.



5:53 p.m. As I'm turning off the loop and onto the road where the soccer fields are, Hot Rod says:
Mom, where are my shin guards and soccer shoes?

Christ, almighty.

Turn around, cursing up a storm of eff bombs that is still lingering over North Denton.

Army of Dad met up with a friend briefly after work and got stuck in traffic. I was going to have to do practice and here I am turning around to go back for the child's soccer gear. I remembered every thing else:
AoD's coach's badge and whistle
coach's bag
soccer balls
cooler with water
my coach's badge

But, not the child's shoes and shin guards.

*punching steering wheel*

Oh yeah, I forgot my phone, too, so I couldn't even call another mom to tell her to warn the parents that, I am, indeed, on my way.

Run in grab shoes, shin guards and phone. Frantically call the one mom whose cell phone number I remember. She is the only one there. *whew*

Everyone was five to 10 minutes late. Normally, that would tick me off. Today, I was grateful. Talked to the boys briefly and then played a rousing game of Cowboys and Indians until AoD showed up.

Thank God HE coaches the team and not me.


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