Monday, March 26, 2012

Don't call me Soccer Mom

Enrolled the Roo in soccer.

By default, that makes me a soccer mom.

I know the term has come a long way in the past few years, and has since transcended the cookie-cutter image of the stained-sweat-pants-wearing, wood-panelled-mini-van-driving, puffy-eyed, thermos-full-of-SunnyD-drinking mom.

But that image still sticks with me from my days on the field as a young North Kildonan Cobra who watched the stressed out mothers yelling at their kids (and the other kids, and each other), smoking cigarettes and eating a bag of salt 'n vinegar chips.

Typical? Or was it just my soccer club?

Anyway, I've decided I'm gonna bring a new look to the sidelines.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't just hear you dis my 4 yr old's kicking ability, am I right?"





SoundTracking: The Jets game! Tied at 3 going into the 3rd...



3 comments:

  1. Remember, children... No fate, but what we make...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Cat (to the coach): Men like you built the hydrogen bomb... Men like you thought it up... You think you're so creative. You don't know what it's like to really create something; to create a life; to feel it growing inside you. All you know how to create is death...
    Madelyn: Mom.
    Cat: ...and destruction...
    Madelyn: MOM! We need to be a little more constructive here, okay? I think we just need to score more goals...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hello, Coach Silbermann. How's the knee?

    ReplyDelete