Ok, I admit, I pushed my kid into playing football. It’s not like I am squishing him into a ruffly pink tu-tu and forcing him to prance around with his junk on display. I mean, I am I really doing him and the rest of the world a huge favor.
As anyone knows a kid with rural roots flowing through his veins has absolutely no place dancing around. Don’t be mislead, my kid has NO desire to be a fancy prancy dancer!
I just have a strong belief that, since I did my part in ruining my parts for pretty much ever, the LEAST he can do is play the damn sport I enjoy!
The drama that I get before practices is rather pathetically performed, and completely hilarious if you can see past the annoyance.
Never does my son complain about shitting 5 times a day, seldom does he complain about a genuine headache… But! On football nights, I hear it all. This evening was truly a moment that should have been preserved.
He had a migraine.
a migraine.
SERIOUSLY? Is THAT the best you’ve got??
you do know I am thee migraine queen. I KNOW a migraine a mile away, and covering your head with a quilt while crashing into shit all around the house, while trying hard to hide the fit of giggles is SO NOT a migraine.
Son, right now you might think you hate me for pushing you to play a sport that I enjoy, but what you don’t see is that it’s building your self esteem. You are learning to step out of your comfort zone and you are learning to respect the limits that you can reach. I know that you’d rather be sitting at home on the couch watching tv, but that is part of the reason I push you. You’ll thank me one day!
It might not be til I’m dead, but you will thank me 😉

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