October 14, 2011
Tonight I picked the girls up from daycare a little earlier than normal and we stopped at the local high school Homecoming parade. I used to march in that parade, a billion and ten years ago, as a cheerleader. So it was a little crazy for me to be standing there for the first time in COUGHFIFTEENCOUGH years and watching kids of basically an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT GENERATION doing the same thing I used to do. Audrey was unsure of the loud marching band, but Maggie was all over the candy-collecting part of the event.
Then after a quick dinner at home (Chipotle, FTW! Thanks, Dan!), Maggie and I headed to the Homecoming football game. A Girls’ Night Out, she called it. Works for me! Six bucks admission, a box of popcorn, and a bottle of water.
She sat there on the bleachers, happily munching away on her popcorn. Occasionally she would make a comment about the ‘flut-ball’ game (I will never correct that one.) and pointing to the marching band. Once, she asked if we were going to see Ben and Troy.
As she took in the sights, I sat and watched, feeling a little bit nostalgic for those days when high school football games were A Really Big Deal. Wow does that all feel like another lifetime. I watched her. I watched the game, the cheerleaders, the band. I watched the kids. KIDS EVERYWHERE. Kids, not much older than Maggie- seven, eight years old- running around with their friends, all fancied up in their skinny jeans and boots and lip gloss (YES EIGHT YEAR OLDS IN LIP GLOSS, HOLD ME, PLEASE.) It’s the social event of the week.
And that’s when I realized: in a few years, she won’t be content to sit next to me at the football game (it will no longer be ‘flut-ball’). Before I can say Meet me by the goal posts at halftime, she’ll rather be off with her friends, giggling and talking about boys and her new jeans and running around under the bleachers, than hanging out with me.
Then I hugged her, explained to her that Ben and Troy don’t play for the high school team, and we ate some more popcorn.