9/27/17

Where Am I?

I’m not really sure where I am going.  Am I going to the soccer fields?  No, I’m not going there because I clearly have food in my hand.  If I was on my way to the soccer fields I would probably eat there.  A dry sausage biscuit thing wrapped in re-used tinfoil.  I’m eating a burrito so I’m clearly not on my way to the soccer complex.

This is the way it is with older kids.  Well, not so much older.  I have a toddler but he is now in “after-school” activities.  It’s his first year of soccer.  At four-years-old, this basically means that they run around and trip over each other.  During games, one of the little guys will get themselves tangled in a net like a codfish.  There’s lots of crying.  

I drive from one practice to another, from one field or facility.  I used to think that when the kids got older, I would have more time.  This, as it turns out, was bullshit.  What it means is that my nights and weekends are more packed than ever.  When the kids were younger everything could be accomplished during the day.  Now that has been switched to night.  And I am rarely home during the night.  

So here I am, trying to remember where I am going by what I am eating.  

On Mondays, when my daughter has volleyball practice, I usually have some sort of pork loin slice sitting on my lap as I make the turns.  Her practice is a little bit later so I can actually cook some meat.  Oh, I don’t have time to actually eat it at the table though.  Practice isn’t that late.  And it’s a two-hour practice too.  But what I can do is take a couple of slices of that pork loin and eat them like a nugget.  So in a way, it’s a lot like when the kids were younger- eating nuggets in the car.  Currently, I am not eating pork loin.  

Maybe I’m on my way to boy scouts?  Nope, that’s out.  Boy scout night I usually have a slice of pizza wrapped in a paper towel.  Sometimes I have a soda with me but most of the time it’s a water bottle that needs to be cleaned out.  Boy scouts is pretty fun though.  Sometimes they have events where they sell hot dogs.  That would be good.  But on this trip, I’m not eating pizza.  I have a burrito.  

When do I have burritos?  Is it on girl scout night?  No, my wife handles most of that.  Except when she works late.   Turns out, my wife has to work late a lot.  But girl scout night is on the same night is volleyball and my pork loin nuggets.  

Wednesday night is my writer’s group night.  Then I don’t eat anything because we go to a bar afterward.  But when I do that, I usually don’t have kids in the car with me.  I’ve got all three.  I drag them from one practice to another.  I could let my daughter stay home, she has a phone.  But I usually need her help with the toddler while I participate in whatever we are doing.  

I coach my ten-year-olds soccer team.  The ride to that practice is short though so if I can scarf down a pop tart on the way, it’s a win. I suppose we could start eating earlier, but dinner at 4 pm makes me feel too elderly.  I defiantly don’t eat burritos on the way to coaching soccer.  I would puke.  

Am I going to a volleyball game maybe?  Hmm, nope.  I don’t think so.  First off, those are usually at 9 in the morning.  Right after a soccer game.  So I run from a soccer game to a volleyball game while other people sleep in on the weekend.  This is not a breakfast burrito, that’s for sure.  It’s got tomatoes and meat, a little bit of cilantro.  Nope, this is a dinner burrito.  

The toddler’s soccer practice!  That’s where I am going.  That’s when I get the burritos.  We have taco night on Tuesdays, right before we leave.  The two older kids eat at 5, which is so much better than eating at 4.  And while they eat I get the toddler dressed.  Cleats, shin guards, and a whole bunch of crying.  I don’t know why, he loves soccer but hates getting ready for soccer.  

After I’m done with him I usually have time to make a burrito and eat it in the car on the way over.  So that’s it.  It’s Tuesday and I’m eating a burrito on the way to my toddler’s soccer practice.  

I pull into the gym parking lot, realizing that it is not a soccer field.  Crap, we are going to be late.  




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