I Am Amazing

Subtitle: The inflated confidence of my kids in winter sports.

If you ask my children how the season is going, they will puff out their chests and humbly respond, "Well, I score the most goals for my team."

Sounds impressive until you learn that it is *pause* basketball season. 

No goals to see here, friends.

And these boastful (patently false) visions of grandeur best capture the circus that is Upward Basketball with my  overconfident, under skilled, small children.  

(And by small-I mean like poorly-fed-looking, small).  I wish I could credit my genetics- but as Shakira sings, those [Kulp] "hips don't lie."

Jason is begrudgingly happily coaching Kincaid's team-  Which according to him, continues to be much like herding drunk, angry cats. Personally, I am gratified by his growth in spousal empathy since that is pretty much my career track these days. Motherhood: Herder of Drunk, Angry Cats and other real house pets.

At this point in their athletic "career," it is frankly painful to watch the game. (And I use both the terms "career" and "game" liberally, here.)

Another painful thing to watch is the middle-aged dad in pleated cackies who casually slips onto the court during halftime to relive his high-school glory days. His receding hair line glistens with perspiration as he carefully tucks his tie into his oxford shirt while he takes a few jump shots- like it ain't no thang to hit a free throw in tassel loafers. Whomp, there it is. Looks like "Kevin" still has it.  Or not.

And at the conclusion of every harrowing game, after excessive affirmation, when my children have done little but skip down the court (Eowyn) or showcase their Hulk face on defense (Caid), I tactfully inquire: "So, what do you think you could have done better for the next game?" 

To which they both invariably respond, "Not much- except score more goals."

There you have it. 

So, am I glad the season is over? Um, is Michael Jordan a goal-scoring legend?! 

Colson only comes for the food (obviously)