The Ferrari on the Wing.

The Mighty Ducks again played under lights last night. Friday night games are THE BEST because it means you can still have a sleep in on the weekends.

If indeed you can call 7.30am a sleep in, I suppose.

Anyway, last night I was quietly confident that the Ducks might have a win, the first of the season, as I had heard a rumour that the team we were played were really unskilled.

Never believe rumours people! It can give you a false sense of smugness, which ends up only making you look like a goose when you tell the other parents that you have a bottle of bubbles in your bag, and you will share it if victory prevails.

Putting the teams side by side, we had an obvious weight advantage. But the Eels were quick and clever. Not the team I was expecting. I stood next to their coach for a while, but it was obvious that he had lofty goals of one day coaching the Wallabies, such was his seriousness. He liked to scream out "REF!". 

A lot.

I winced when I saw a boy from the opposition punch Harry fair in the guts, but then pretended to see nothing when Harry clobbered him back.

Under tens people! And biff!

Half time, we were losing rather badly. But we were yet to reveal our secret weapon....

Enter Rosie.

Rosie is a local lass, a celebrated runner at a state level and one of those kids that you just immediately like. 

"Can I play?" She asked.

I asked coaches Jim and Hutto. Hutto immediately said yes, so off went Rosie to find her mouth guard. Hutto instructed the Ducks to pass the ball to "The Ferarri on the Wing" and with those instructions firmly understood, we were able to catch up to the Eels score, with but moments to spare.

She was magnificent.

The boys were in awe of her, and all agreed that she needed a permanent start with The Mighty Ducks.

So we didn't lose. And that was good enough for us.

Writing as Therapy

Life is a funny old thing, if you really stop and think about it. You are born alone, and you die alone and what you do in between those two points is entirely up to you.

Well you, and fate.

Fate is a mysterious thing and something that you can ponder and worry about. I do it all the time. It can drive me bananas. What if? What about? Why did that happen?

I really envy those people who can fall through life without a care in the world. I curse my brain often, at the pace it runs sometimes. At times, I am so glass-half-empty it is ridiculous.

We have lost another member of our family under very sad circumstances, so soon after losing Aaron. My cousin Mark's, Aaron's Uncle, number was up. His funeral is on Monday. I spoke with Aunty Margaret last night, whose heart is broken.

The whole scenario is shit, shit, shit.

You think when a tragedy like that strikes, your lot would be be spared for a while, go to the back of the line and all that crap.

Woke up with the sads, riddled with anxiety and just a generalised feeling of gloom today. Reading groups to go to in Jack's class.

I sat with a group of 7 year old boys, all enthusiastically talking about the stars, constellations and the Milky Way. The teeth on these kids were a scream, all growing in sideways and wonky, for those who did not have massive gaps.

It reminded me of a lecture I attended recently, where the speaker equated children as "Pure Energy".  It is only as you grow older that you add your layers of self doubt, guilt, hate, envy and all the other traits that us grown ups carry around with us. Like some huge, big fucking backpack that just gets heavier and heavier.
Until you fall over.

I walked home from school with a very heavy backpack. The sun is shining here today and the warmth of it on my back was a very welcome relief to the coldness I felt inside. As I walked, I became acutely aware of my surroundings. People going about their day, young pure-energy babies in prams and old people with walking frames going into the chemist.

People getting on with it.

“The saddest summary of life contains three descriptions: could have, might have, and should have.” ~ Unknown

I came home and took off my shoes. I sat in the sun and Bev called. After a chat I hung up and right then, right there, decided I was going to lighten my load and keep moving forward. 

I am going to shed some shit. Because although you cannot fuck around with fate, you can sure as hell make each day count.

Do you think too much?

Lollypop Militia

I can, hand on my heart, declare that I am not an asshole. But I sure did spend some time walking around with my head up my own sphincter yesterday.

I had an attack of the vagues all day and this was pointed out to me quite early on in the morning.

I had taken the Woogette's to school, kissed each of their little faces goodbye and walked out of the gates. My mind was completely elsewhere when I absentmindedly crossed the school crossing. I was waving to the car car that stopped for me when, all of a sudden, there was the most alarming screech....

but with added cranky face

I stopped in my tracks in the middle of the crossing, as the cars banked up on either side of the crossing. I looked up to see an extraordinarily pissed off Lollypop lady, with visible steam coming out of her ears.

I took stock of the situation and quickly realised that I had done the unthinkable. I had attempted to cross the road without permission.

Now, going back to the fact that I am not an asshole, I do realise that this lollypop lady does a formidable job of keeping everyone safe. It is an important job, there is no doubt about it. Not questioning that for a moment.

And even though I am not a devil may care asshole, I will admit that my mind was in Disneyland, and not on the task at hand, which was to obey her rules.

"Oh my god. I am so sorry...." I stuttered.

"No, you're not!" she retorted and threw her stop sign down onto the ground, onto the road...

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

There was a large crowd of obedient parents rallied around the back of her, all patiently waiting for the whistle to signal them to move across the road. Like cows in a grate.

I really wanted to just die, then and there.

I didn't know whether I should go back, where there was now another crowd of parents waiting, or to bravely step forward.

So I did what any moron would do.

I stood, cemented to the spot, as cars crossed in front of me and behind me, hoping for heavens that one of those sink holes that I have read about in the papers would appear under my feet.

Not a huge sinkhole, perhaps just a 2 metre version.

It was at this point that I had a flashback to that great game of the 80's, you know the one right?

Eventually, I think she thought I had been humiliated in front of most of the school population enough and marched towards me, blowing her whistle as she went. He eyes pierced mine until I was forced to look away.

As I feebly made my way through the crowd coming the other way, I caught a few glimpses of sympathy, and I took this as a sign that others had fallen foul of the Lollypop Lady's militant behaviour.

That, and to keep my head out of my ass and my eyes firmly on the road.

Ever been publicly humiliated?