NOT Taking One For The Team
Tonight is our local high school’s homecoming football game and Hugh promised the children ages ago that he would take them. It has been raining to beat the band all day and a sane person would totally welch on that promise and instead, take his children out for Chinese and a movie.
Hugh by the way? Insane. Not only will he make good on the promise, but he’ll make every effort to guilt me into going with them and, while I’m all in favor of my offspring showing their school spirit, yada, yada, yada, I have no interest in freezing my delicate ass off in the pouring rain as the temperatures dip.
Thanks, but, no thanks.
But, since I know the man, and I know he will persist in his demands that I accompany them, I am mentally preparing my argument. I predict it going a little something like this:
Hugh: You should totally come; it’ll be a family thing.
Chelle: Cleaning the house could be a family thing; what are you all doing tomorrow? Besides, newsflash; I hate football.
Hugh: You were a cheerleader in high school.
Chelle: Cheerleading was all about the skirt, dear; not the sport. Besides, have you looked outside? It is pouring.
Hugh: What, you think you might melt?
Chelle: Exactly; sugar does, you know.
I’m totally ready for him.
I hope he at least buys me a big foam finger.
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