The good ol’ Hockey Game
Colin met me as I got home from work.
“Daddy buyed us penis protectors!” He exclaimed with excitement.
I thought ‘they’re a bit young for condoms.’
Then Colin put on his new jock strap and that’s when it occurred to me that I have been forced into Hockey-motherhood. But I promise not to be an angry hockey mom like Sarah Palin. Didn’t I see her on Deliverence??
In going in the house I noticed that our tree in the front yard has mysteriously vanished, leaving us with a crop circle. And just before I had time to call the police to report a tree napping, David explained that he removed it to make room for a hockey rink, because, well, the tree was in the way.
Last year we had one of those Make Your Own Rinks from the Super Store, and it may very well have been the best 20 bucks we ever spent. Every Saturday and Sunday morning, the boys would throw on their skates and practice skating while I would watch from the porch-swing with my coffee and my paper, while still in my jam-jams and sporting a wild case of bed-head. See, that’s how I want to spend my weekends. Now, thanks to an over-zealous hockey-equipment-buying, tree-murdering husband, I will be spending by Saturday mornings in cold rinks, drinking coffee out of a Styrofoam cup instead of my very cosmopolitan coffee mug and my fuzzy bathrobe.
AND I’ll have to shower!
As I walked into the Lunenburg Hockey rink to register the boys for hockey, I had a mild panic attack, thinking about the lowering of my bank account balance and my heightened blood pressure due to my fear of the boys getting hurt. I signed a million forms that go with registration. I racked my brain to remember our family doctor’s and dentist’s phone number and the date of their last shots (I mean, do parents really memorize this stuff??) I knew a number of people who were there to sign up their kids- really good people. There was a sense of excitement in the air. I mean parents were actually eager to sign a big fat check. No one else had the same deer-in-the-headlights look that I had. What did they know that I didn’t?
So for the first time, I was actually looking forward to the kid’s hockey experience.
And it didn’t hurt that I got a tax receipt!