Football season has started again, and I already HATE it.
Okay folks here's the deal - lance lied.
Bottom line - big fat lire actually he is a big fat lire that grins from ear to ear about it.
Yeap, that makes me want to jump up and punch him in the face - color me a grown up (ha!).
So here's the skinny - Rylan has one more week until he is officially off doctors orders, until he has hit his 6 week full recovery period. Which 'should' mean NO tackling in football. Actually this is what WE agreed upon. No tackeling until after 6 weeks.
IF - Rylan decided he wanted to play football again this year, then he could run and work-out with the kids; BUT no hitting until the end of 6 weeks.
*all pretty reasonable if you ask me.*
Well, last night is draft night and equipment night.
Lance tells me I don't really need to show-up; him and Rylan will go.
I think to myself - 'how nice of him.' *now I know better*. Secondly, I didn't really want to go -because I went straight from work to gymnastics w/ Pyper until 6pm.
I decided to stop by football practice, just to check it out.
Mind you I am still in my dress, heels, pearl necklace etc. Which is code for 'freakn miserable' because I still have my work clothes on.
I pull into the football parking lot and it is packed. No parking anywhere - people have parked up in the grass, created their own spots ect. I drive in circles and finally find a spot.
So, Pyper and I arrive ; her in her gymnastics uniform and me in my work attire. To say that we stuck out like a sore thumb would be putting it lightly. What the hell ever - I am use to sticking out a bit.
I find Lance on the sidelines w/ a cig hanging out of his mouth. His mouth is wide open and he is yelling at Rylan to run. I want to punch him in the face, I think 'for gosh sakes leave the darn kid alone'.
I get into Lance's view and his face drops. um, I thought.
I sit and watch the drills, no big deal. I decide I am going to leave, I am tired of being in my work clothes and things look fine. Then the teams switch into a new drill.
The hitting drill. I look at Lance and state ' he cannot do this one, we discussed this.'
He ignores me.
I say it louder ' HE CANNOT DO THIS ONE, go speak to the coach'
He ignores me.
By now they have started the drill and Rylan and this other kids are hitting each other. I feel myself puke a little in my mouth, my face is white, and I have grabbed Lance's shirt. Rylan does the drill then walks to the back of the line, unknowing that I am freaking out. Lance looks at me and smiles. I state 'if he gets hurt and has to have surgery again, I will NEVER forgive you. NEVER. And you lied.'
Rylan finished the practice, he came up for a drink twice - he said he was fine. And Lance smiled the whole time. I envisioned myself wiping the smile off his face then rubbing his face in the grass. *grow-up I know.*
I am so angry. I cannot see straight.
Tonight is another night of football practice, I suspect the same situation.
As you read this you may ask - 'why didn't I just go to the coach myself. Why did I just sit on the sidelines.'
Truth ' I thought Lance had already had the talk with the coach, we had an understanding.'
Secondly, by the time he was hitting I was too sick to move, and ashamed that I even let it happen. I envisioned myself sassing down the field in my work clothes, speaking w/ the coach and Rylan being mortified. So in an act of cowardliness I sat on it, and waited.
I trust that he truly is okay, but I would have preferred to have waited just one more week for full recovery.
In case I never said it - I hate football.