Because I am a betting woman, I bet on the Man-Cub to Show. He did.
I bet on Darren to Place. And, he did.
And, I bet on Mikey to win. He did.
While the boys were reenacting the end credits of Chariots of Fire; Jana and I were working on our tans, you know, in the sunny moments that we found between the bouts of rain and wind, otherwise know as few and far between.
And, while it could be argued that I am no fan of track meets that last hour upon hour, in inclement weather; I must report that it was sort of a fun day, nonetheless. Hanging with friends has that effect on otherwise unpleasant activities, I have found.
It could be argued that the Man-Cub knows this, as well.
Following the track meet, the Cub left to spend the weekend with Jana and Darren and I came home to psyche myself up for prom, tomorrow night.
The Teenager volunteered me to do one of her girlfriend's hair despite the fact that I have no talent, whatsoever, in hair styling, but, you know, no pressure. In addition, I have six kids to photograph, silicone undergarments to paste upon my daughter's bosom, and; Hugh will no doubt require my sage counsel in the event that he finally realizes that his baby is about to embark on a date that will, for all intents and purposes; last all night long (Denial: It ain't just a river in Egypt).
It's going to be an interesting evening, I'm thinking.