We Are On a Break
Spring Break, that is. School let out at noon yesterday and the kids could not be more delighted. We have no major plans for the break, simply hanging out around the house and enjoying one another’s company. At least until we start tap-dancing on one another’s nerves and the need to throttle one another becomes impossible to resist, anyway.
I give it two days. Three, tops.
Hugh is enjoying the break, though. He has been attending some big bowling tournament in New Mexico for the past two days. He enjoys the bowling ever so much and, after devoting so much time to the wrestling program, he needed a little break. Now, he will be all rested up and can come home and dive right into coaching the Man-Cub’s baseball team; oh, joy!
Speaking of the baseball team, have I mentioned lately how truly sorry I am that I agreed to sit on the Baseball Association Board of Directors? No? Well, here goes! I’m sorry. So very sorry.
I have just finished my duties with the wrestling program and am now tasked with ordering uniforms for the baseball teams; teams ranging from Tee-Ball, ages 4 and up through the Majors, ages 15-18. Can you possibly imagine how many kids that entails? Approximately One Meelion kids (said in the voice of Dr. Evil, complete with the pinkie held to the corner of the mouth, thankyouverymuch). And, I just found out that I will also be responsible for scheduling volunteers to man the concession stands at each of the approximately One Meeeeelion games this summer, once again; oh, joy!
On the bright side, we did get all the kids that we wanted for our team at the recent draft. This will be the third year that they have played together which makes it easier for Hugh as a coach; he knows their personalities, strengths, weaknesses, etc. and, who am I kidding; it makes it easier for me, too. I already know-and like-the boys' mothers.
Assigning volunteers to turn the hot dogs and to stir the fake cheese for the nachos should be easy. At our games, anyway; the other nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine games could pose a wee bit of a challenge. And, I suppose I should get to it.
Spring Break my ass.