humor in retrospect

The dice rolled. The dh was sniffling all night, and everyone else was still sleeping, so S and I set off together for football alone. We took along the handy-dandy garmin, the ezpass for tolls, directions from mapquest, and our spirit of adventure - or as much of that as we could muster, not being morning people. The trip up was relatively uneventful. I missed one turn, but set myself to rights before the garmin could even say, “Recalculating.”

After arriving, the team did the standard hour of standing around doing nothing. I still have yet to understand why they are expected to arrive two hours before a game when things don’t even start happening until about 40 minutes before game time. So, most of the boys stood around playing catch while S used me as a sled and pushed me around the field. Uneventful to the extreme, until….

Have you ever noticed that there are “untils” scattered throughout your life? Every situation could be viewed in respect to its speed bumps and obstacles. Sometimes those obstacles take you on a path that is grand and glorious but that would never have been possible without a negative occurrence. Sometimes, they just cause grumpiness. This was one of the latter.

Right before weigh-in, the team was suiting up. It was at that moment that S noticed his mouth guard was no longer attached to his helmet. Great. Wonderful. We scoured the field in search of its fluorescence, but found it not. I made the long trek back to the car, searching every inch of ground as I went. Nothing. The team was getting weighed in when I made it back. I asked around, and none of the coaches or team members had a spare mouth guard. The stand which usually stocks them on the field was sold out. We had driven an hour and a half, stood around for an hour and a half, and now it would be for nothing. I tried to remember the stores we had passed in close proximity. There hadn’t been many. This field was pretty close to being in the middle of nowhere. Still, I had to try.

Someone remembered seeing a Sears at some point. It was worth a shot. I yelled to S that I would be out shopping, and ran for my car. I drove to all of the shops I had seen – nothing. The Sears just carried clothes, there were multitudinous drug stores and realtors, but nothing was going to fill my particular need. As I drove, I called the dh. He got onto the computer, and promised to call me back when he found anything. With his return call came proof to any interested party that we would never survive the Amazing Race.

Him: Where are you now?

Me: Driving North on _ _ _.

Him: Are you coming up on any crossroads?

Me: No.

Him: Do you see ___ ____ Park?

Me: No, where would it be?

Him: I don’t know where you are.

Me: I’m coming up to a road now.

Him: What road is it?

Me: I don’t know, these roads are marked really poorly, and you can’t see a sign until you are past them.

Him: Did you take my Garmin?

Me: Yes.

Him: Is it turned on?

Me: Yes, but I can’t look at it while I am holding the phone and peeking at the directions to see what roads I am getting ready to pass.

Him: You don’t need the directions. I am LOOKING at the directions.

Me: you don’t have to talk to me that way. I am not an inept individual.

Him:

I ended up driving down winding roads through trees and cornfields in search of a K-Mart that, apparently, does not exist. Finally, he found an athletic supply store a few miles further on.

After rapidly picking out a mouthpiece that I wasn’t sure about (they didn’t carry the brand the boy prefers), I again scurried off to the car in hopes that the more direct 13 miles back to the field would take less time than my circuitous outbound journey. I was coasting along fine for 6 of those miles, until….

You know, I have noticed that “untils” are much more likely to occur when you can least afford them to do so. That may not actually be the case. When you get a new car, you suddenly start noticing just how many people are also driving the same kind of car, even if you never remember seeing one of that type before in your life. Did everyone go out and get a car the same day as you did? Not likely. Perhaps the “untils” go unnoticed when they don’t cause inconvenience to your plan of action.

Road construction. I had noticed it the first time we came through the area on the way to the field, but at that time, traffic was not heavy, and it caused not a blip in our plans. This time, I spent miles behind a semi, going between 0 and 20 miles an hour with no view of what was ahead. Finally, I did make it back to the field. A quick look at the clock told me that I had likely missed the entire first half of the game. Still, all was not lost. Ignoring my swelling bladder for the sake of my child, I sped off to the field to give him his new mouthpiece.

It didn’t fit without molding.

A side trip to the concession stand had to be delayed – my bladder would no longer take on the martyr role. Either I visited the port-a-potty, or I wore wet clothes. That handled, I stood in the enormous line with the simple hope of obtaining a cup of hot water to mold the mouthpiece.

My objective was finally accomplished. The mouthpiece was duly molded; things seemed to be looking up, until…

Have I ever mentioned that I have a tendency to beat up on myself when things go wrong? I can feel guilt over anything, even the uncontrollable - sometimes, especially the uncontrollable. And here it was raising its ugly head. The mouthpiece still didn’t fit. The ends would need to be trimmed from the back in order for my child’s lovely palate to be protected. Whatever the odds that two first aid kits, a bunch of men, and an anal retentive mother (myself) would all be without any kind of sharp implement with which to cut the plastic, I am sure they were small. Then again, I am good at falling against the odds.

All of that for nothing, he didn’t even get to play. The team lost too (made harsher by the fact that one of the opposing team’s touchdowns was scored while they had one too many players on the field, which escaped the notice of the officials even if it didn’t escape the video cameras of our screaming fans).

There are more “untils”. I drove, briefly, the wrong way on a one way street. I almost forgot to look at my gas gauge, which would have been traumatic. The signage and turns were confusing at times (thus the wrong way adventure). Yet, we made it home safely. And if there is one thing I have learned over the years it is this: grumpy ‘untils” are the glue that holds relationships together. After the grumpiness settles, all that is left is a funny story. Sharing those moments will serve me well when I reach my rocking chair years.