I really wish people would stop asking me if I am OK.
I know they are only trying to be polite, but they force me to lie every single time and say “I’m OK” when it’s patently obvious that I’m not. I know they don’t want the truth.
Ironically, the people closest to me know I’m not OK but can tell when I’m having a really bad day and just check on the degree of sadness I’m at for the day or just ask “how are you?” and aren’t afraid to hear the reply.
Or see the tears.
I took the kids to soccer again this morning. Next week is presentation week and they all get trophies for participation. I think. It’s a nice idea that participation is the aim, rather than winning and losing.
Some of the parents do my head in though … these are little kids just running round, kicking a ball vaguely towards their end, there’s no off-side, no goalie, just fun. But today I’ve heard:
“if you don’t beat your cousin, you are out of the family”
“remember J, it’s a dollar for every goal you kick”
“you’ll never make the World Cup team if you play like that”
“you cheated you little bugger”
What is wrong with these people???? Some parents suck. They put me off sport.
At least the organisers go to great pains to encourage all the kids to play, don’t keep score and really just focus on fun and friendship for the kids.
As I was driving home, I saw a bit of rope by the side of the road. I nearly stopped to pick it up and decided that I must have been channeling YOU. *I* don’t scavenge road-side garbage – that’s entirely your thing. Mind you, you’ve come home with some rippers in the past – like the enormous Christmas tree, and the bikes. Not to mention all the tools you’ve found.
You were such a magpie!
Love you Buddy Roo