Everybody always talks about the benefits of being an adult WITHOUT children. You get to go to all the movies (which you never do), you get to go to all the concerts (which you never do), and you get to make wild, monkey love all over the house, no matter what time of day, and not worry about getting caught. (I don't know about you, but I've never done this. Though, I have been told I sounded like a monkey, during sex. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.)
But, you never hear ANYBODY talk about the joys of having the children WITHOUT the parents. The benefits, of course, would be for the rest of us. Not the children themselves. I'm guessing that, without the parents, the kids would starve, and cry, and spend too much time on the internet. There would be inquiries. If society has proven anything to us, it is that inquiries lead to no good.
Now that my daughter is at the age where she spends some of her time in groups, with other children, I am forced to spend some of my time in groups, with their parents.
This, too, often leads to no good.
At her basketball practice, there is one particular bonehead who believes that he is a surogate coach, and offers unsolicited advice to all the parents about how thier kid could be better.
Annoying Father: Spenser needs to keep her hands up.
Me: She's doing okay.
Annoying Father: Like this (as he procedes to put his hands up, as he wants my daughter to do.)
Me: Thanks. We'll work on that.
Annoying Father: She needs to get her legs set, too.
Me: Go away.
Annoying Father: Like this (as he gets his legs set.)
Me: I hate you.
Annoying Father: Then, she needs to slide, side to side.
Me: Die.
Annoying Father: Like this (sliding back and forth in front of me.)
Me: Why did anybody EVER let you reproduce with them.
Annoying Father: I don't sound like a monkey, in bed.
Me: I....Wait....Shut-up.
Then, I get a nice, long lecture about how his daughter (who I pretty sure I saw eat paste) is going for a basketball scholarship (I'm not making that up.)
The girls are 8.
While I'm pretty sure that the NBA is drafting 8 year olds, these days, I'm equally certain that most colleges ARE NOT offering them scholarships.
Most of the time I just think it would be better if all the OTHER parents weren't there. Of course, were that the case, I would probably have to answer a lot of questions about why I was the lone adult, watching a basketball practice, consisting entirely of 8 year old girls. Might be better if I just put on my ipod, and tried to ignore everybody else.
My point is that I never wanted to be one of THOSE parents. I wanted to enjoy watching my little girl do her thing, good or bad, and then be proud of her no matter what. Truth be told, Spenser's biggest concern as far as basketball goes was what color to paint her nails. When she is the home team, her jersey is red. Therefore, the nails must be red. When she is the visiting team, her jersey is white. Therefore, her nails must be....pink.......Don't ask.
Spenser: Are we home or visitors?
Me: It doesn't matter. We're late. Let's go.
Spenser: I have to paint my nails!!!
Me: You can't. We're late.
Spenser: DADDY!!!
Me: WE'RE LATE!!!
Spenser: DADDY!!!!
Me: LET'S GO!!!
Spenser: DADDY!!!
ME: AAAAAAAAAA!!!!
Spenser: DADDY!!!!
Me: HOME!!! RED!!!
Spenser: Thank you.
Me: Don't forget to put your hands up.
Spenser: No. They'll throw me the ball, and scratch my nail polish.
Me: Oh......Right.
Sadly, though, we have reached Girl Scout Cookie season. While I can ignore the OTHER parents, for sports. I cannot allow them to have any sort of cookie superiority. For years, I have not been able, for various reasons, to help the kid out. This year, though, we are going to divide and conquer. I am finding that the Girl Scout parents are every bit as annoying as the basketball parents. For this reason alone, they must be destroyed.
Mother: We're going to sell cookies, this weekend.
Me: Us, too.
Mother (narrowing eyes): Where are you gonna go?
Me (narrwoing eyes back): Oh, here and there. You?
Mother: Same.
Me: What day?
Mother: Sunday. You?
Me: Tonight, tomorrow, AND Sunday.
Mother (dejected): We can't. Our other daughter has dance. God, I hate her.
Me: HA!!!! FACE!!!!!! HAD TO HAVE TWO DAUGHTERS, HUH!?!! HAHAHA!!!! ONE, UNPLANNED MOMENT OF PASSION, AND I AM THE GIRL SCOUT COOKIE KING!!!!!! BWAH-HA-HA-HA!!!!
Mother: I hear you sound like a monkey, in bed.
Me: I.....Wait.....Seriously....Shut-up.....That is so not cool.
So, this weekend, I will be out and about, dragging my daughter behind (green nail polish), and becoming the Girl Scout Cookie King of The East Coast.
You'll know me, if you see me. I sound like a monkey.
Casey
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7 comments:
Just wanted to say that you've always talked about your "blog" and how no one reads it... so I decided to...
Take care and keep on doin' what you do!
hey casey i sell girl scout cookies too so far 14 cases try to beat me. im from a family of 8
Oh, I am so glad to find another kindred who hates 96% of parents of elementary schoolers! I thought it was me because I was older and jaded. I met another like us today at one of those hateful birthday parties in places that impair hearing more than any 80's rock concert would. We were talking about school dances - monthly in 6th grade. Why? No one dances.
Casey, there's nothing stopping you from listening to your ipod during your daughter's basketball games while cheering the team on and blatantly ignoring the other parents. Screw them. You're there for your family, not them.
You may sound like a monkey.... you you'll be a Thin Mint and Samoa selling monkey, which makes you the best kind of monkey there is... except that one from Outbreak.. the one that gave people the killer plague from its spit. That monkey definitely has you beat.
Casey, you are brilliant.
I agree with Dennis..brilliant. It's more fun to read you than listen to you. Keep blogging!
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