The Arrival of Jealousy

In our house the arrival of Jealousy is strictly taboo. She came in with the gust of a 1930's dust bowl and made herself at home. Most often we walk around her pretending that she is not there. Sometimes, I will set my mind to sweeping her out of our home. (Or at least under the rug.) But before I can finish this monumental task, the man of the house mixes her a drink.

Drink in hand, fueled, Jealousy orders return address stickers with her name in curlicue's and our address in bold.

It's not that I have never been jealous before. In the past it was a fleeting thought.

"How cute that dad is out by himself with his little kids, I wish that was my husband."
"They look great on the dance floor together, I wish that was Ben and I."
"They won how much? Why not me!"

It's just that this is the first time I have had her as a house pest . . . I am completely unequipped for the battle.

She is a strong contender; armed with ugly truths.
She is wise; she embedded herself with Love.
She is sneaky; she attacks after I think that she has hit the road.
She is bold; she invades my dreams.

I know if I could simply stop feeding Jealousy with time she would either leave or wither away. Such is my intent, but . . . damn, a girl can only take so much.

So, I sat her down today for a long talk. Told her this "arrangement" was not working out for me. And as Marion Robert Morrison might say, I told her with absolute certainty,

"This town ain't big enough for the two of us!"

The talk went . . .okay . . . she was a great sport about it, she even offered to help me pack!

A Soccer Folly

PARENT VS. REFEREE; PLAYER VS. PLAYER; PARENT VS. PARENT

A SOCCER FOLLY

The game started off with a group prayer in the middle of the soccer field. Each player beside her soon to be opponent. Prayer is a hard thing for me. It seems to be most often used as a wishing list. But, seeing the game started this way did make me feel good. (Of course, a group hug would have worked just as well. . . for me.)


Before I begin the Follies, I would like to pose a rhetorical question:

Have you EVER in any sport from pee wee to college seen a referee/umpire . . . any official, change a call because of something a parent yells from the side line? EVER?

The answer is NO.

Such it was on this particular sunny day in the middle of No Man's Land Kansas.

The referee WAS among the worst I have ever witnessed.

At first his bad calls had no bias. But, to the misfortune of my daughter's Lazers team, there pacing the sidelines was one particular parent who was feeling a little God like. He knew what SHOULD have been called (every time) and he was not afraid to share this information with the referee. (And as you might have guessed, in his world the Lazers had a perfect game with no fouls, no off sides, no trapping the ball, etc.)

Eventually, it was hard to get a call in favor of the Lazers; that is just how it works. It was inevitable with the God Like Lazers Parent continuously shouting at the referee.

Selfishly, I was more annoyed with him because he was obstructing every ones view - mostly mine - of the game.
(Like a St. Patricks Day Parade Parent. The ones who follow their child performers along the parade path and stand in front of the people who have been waiting and waiting sitting there on the sidewalk. I look up , because of course I am talking about ME, to watch the dancers and I am butt level with a group of obnoxious parents! My kids are crying and I'm..... sorry, I tend to get carried away.)

As I mentioned, this was one of the most deplorable jobs of refereeing I have personally seen. He wasn't calling fouls. The other team had lots of replacements so they always had a blast of new energy but they didn't have the skills to even turn the ball around on the field. Girls with no skills on the soccer field are dangerous. They just don't have any control. (Especially, if they are bigger.) The opposing team were all over our girls.

Another truth to any game: Not calling the personal fouls makes for a wild game! It didn't take long for the Lazers to become just as reckless if not worse. It is that whole justification thing.

Toward the end of the game, one of the Lazers blatantly shoved her Opponent off of the ball. She "won" the ball and had passed it as the Referee blew his whistle. About the same time, the Opponent ran over to the Lazers girl - who no longer had the ball - and shoved her across the field.

God Like Lazers Parent started yelling, "That is what happens when you don't call the game." Over and Over.

The Referee warned him that he was on his way to the parking lot. He then huddled the two girls in question for a fatherly talk. The surprise finish, the Ref gave the ball back to our team. Man, that broke the other team out of their silence.

The next excitement in this brawl was a call no referee could have won.

Lazers Girl had the ball, Opponent was taller and therefore pushing down on Lazers Girls back. Lazers Girl was now trapping the ball. Tit for Tat; both illegal plays. This call did not play out in our favor. Opponent was awarded the ball. Lazers Girl Dad was up out of his seat - crazy mad having his say.

Now for reasons I just don't know, perhaps the Opponent's Parents had had enough as well, one of the parents from the other team decided that he was going to set Lazers Girl Dad straight. So the yelling began. First from where they were sitting, and then face to face.

Opponent Dad, "You can't trap the ball."
Lazers Girl Dad, "The other girl was on top of her."
Opponent Dad, "You can't trap the ball."
. . . just keep replaying this dialogue and that was about the jest of it.

I wanted to walk up to them and tell them Hallelujah they were both right. That the only foreseeable answer to this problem was for all us parents to storm the field, over throw the Officials and let these two dad's referee the remainder of the game.

Just as I was about to my feet to offer my solution, the parent confrontation turned from bad to downright UGLY!

Opponent Dad, "Just go sit down. Just go sit down. Just go sit down."
Lazers Girl Dad, "I will, your not worth my time!"
Then it came down like the judges gavel from the Opponent Dad, "And you call yourself a Christian."
Lazers Girl Dad. "I am a Christian. I am protecting my daughter!"
Opponent Dad, " You don't need to protect your daughter that is what the Referees are for!"

I had to laugh to myself. We had come full circle. Just as both girls on the field were wrong, both dads that stood before us showing their a$$es, were also wrong.

As Opponent Dad stated, Lazers Girl Dad can't protect his daughter on the field. Besides, she was way past it and still giving her all out there on the field. And as Lazers Girl Dad said, the referees were just plain awful!

The battle was over. Lazers 2 - Opponents -3.

I felt as exhausted as my girl who could barely make her way to the car. Along our way we passed Lazers Girl Dad, God Like Lazers Parent and Opponent Dad who were all huddled together in a group hug.

Amen....

. . . Okay, I made that last part up. I can't help it. I just love a group hug!

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