He looked at me confused. 'She is playing in JV1 conference on Saturday, right? She knows about it.' Of course SHE did, but she just hadn't thought to share with me. No big deal. Coach would be out of town (2nd of his 3rd weekend out of town teaching). I had nothing else going on, because basketball season hadn't started yet.
Trust me, I will soon try in vain to remember what my life was like BEFORE basketball season. If Tank ('I-mean,-I-shoot-around,-but-I am-not-the-most-devoted-off-season-player') makes the sophomore team, then I will have:
1. Ed on varsity.
2. Tank on sophomore,
3. Mini on freshmen,
4. Reg on travel and
5. Reg on 7th grade school team (crazy short season),
6. Curly on travel and
7. Curly on girls' 7th grade school team (we anticipate she will make this team - very few girls try out - not competitive and Curly is a decent player. Also crazy short season).
So, yes last Saturday I didn't have any big plans, because who needs to vacuum the house, clean bathrooms, do laundry, remind kids to clean their room, encourage people to practice the fiddle, or make meals? All tasks that can easily be skipped. I told Mini to let me know where she was going to play when she figured it out. (Because of course she was not sure which of the two host schools she was headed to that day -Can you hear that? It is me, screaming inside my head)
|So, they don't look so great, |
but trust me these are the bomb!
When Mini had come home from BFF’s house, she was
#1 loving her haircut, and
#2 informing me that she needed to be at the high school at 6:30 am. That meant leaving our house at 6:20 am.
She wanted me to get up at 6:00 am to help her pack her lunch. I preferred to roll out of bed at 6:18 and stagger to the garage to drive the car. I pointed out to her that perhaps she should have come home from BFF’s house earlier in order to start packing a decent supply of conference day food.
I did begrudgingly agree to get up at 6:00 am - what’s another 20 minutes of sleep at that point?
The small cooler was loaded, and I was busy hating myself for choosing to stay up so damn late. Mini’s phone got a text. It was 6:14 am. It was too bad that I was so tired, because with the heavy downpour happening, I was pretty damn sure I was going to be asked to build an ark soon. Mini’s text: ‘match postponed an hour. Meet at school at 7:15.’
‘Setting my alarm for 7,’ I mumbled to Mini over my shoulder as I shuffled back to my glorious bed.
At 7:00 am when I dragged myself out of bed, I told Mini I would drive her just as soon as I checked the basement for water. Obsessing over the sumppump is typically Coach’s role. I was walking back up the basement stairs, relieved that it was dry, when Mini called down the stairs: ‘Just got a text. They cancelled the match.’
I crawled BACK into my bed. I set my alarm for 8:00 am, so I could go to my 8:15 workout class. Oh how I wanted to ignore my alarm. But I went to the health club, where my bleary-eyed self discovered that the class I attend every Saturday was CANCELLED. The usual instructor was out of town, and they were unable to find a sub.
I hit a workout class 30 minutes later, tempted as I was to go home and go back to bed. JV1 tennis conference was not rescheduled. That was a bummer, but I was too exhausted to mind. The weather the day of conference was expected to be horrible. Why, oh, why could they not have cancelled it in advance - or at the very least why not cancel at 6:15 instead of postponing?