Sogger
Oh my…. Honestly, if it had been my choice I’d have kept my freshly run fanny right here on my cushy, cozy sofa. Watching Oprah and the lovely, inspiring Tina Turner and the caricature of her former self, the entirely manufactured, Cher.
In fact, I even called to make sure that, in fact, it was still going on, given the butt load of rain we endured, wrapped tightly most of the afternoon in down blanket on comfy, cozy sofa, peeking pathetically out the window welcomed today. Hoping secretly, the lazy, self-involved, wanting to stay very solidly put concerned, conscientious mother that I am, in fact, that it wasn’t. You know, catching cold and all…
“Oh, it’s not raining now. And, like, there’s no wind. So, we’re on.” She said in her perky, oh so very eager, aging valley girl sort of way.
“Hmmm-mmm. Grrrreee-aaat….”
So we arrived. Zip, was of course, excited. It wasn’t raining, after all.
For the first. five. fucking. minutes.
The kids didn’t care. The coaches: Oh so active. Oh so eager. Oh so friggin’ enthusiastic. And dressed for rain, of course. Parents: not so much. After all… there was no rain.
With the rest of the miserable lot… I sat. I saw. I got soaked. And cold. I looked up. Fresh snow in the mountains.
Oh how I miss the warm, Virginia spring rains. These bitter cold, sleet-slash-rains of Canadian Rockies spring time.
Truly. Suck.
