Sunday was not our day. It started off well enough, aside from the usually “can’t find any shoes” and “Why are all out coats still in boxes” banter that seems to go on whenever we are pressed to get somewhere on time. We did however make it to church service surprising before we needed to. However by time high noon rolled around, we began our slow descent into the abyss that is the ridiculousness of life gone off its axis.
Flashback to earlier in the week when I (finally) managed to wash all the hockey gear. A small fear all you “soccer mom” types are probably thinking —- wrong! To haul it out of the back of the car is a chore in itself but the unzipping of the bag (oh, the dreaded inside the house unzipping of the bag) is an experience. Once open the contents must be dumped and sorted and washed – all different loads, different cycles and temps. Once washed we hang it outside for some good airing out for a day and back inside to the laundry room and hearth for constant rotation and thorough drying, then replaced and zipped back into the back, which brings us to the first in a long line of errors prior to Sunday’s comedy. Katey ~ being ever so faithful to be here and help with holiday preparations, was asked to load said bags into car. That was it the beast of all chores has been slated and we were officially finished with the Hockey Bag maintenance.
Flash Forward to Sunday, upon arriving at the rink we quickly began to realize something was not quite right, not only were we very late but when the back hatch was pulled up the eerie silence and blank stare that followed was deafening. As we stared into the empty space we began to understand the earth shattering truth. Out faithful daughter had indeed dropped the ball. As my mind screamed out “noooooo!” and I felt my knees begin to buckle I silently chided myself for not being more attentive in math and more so, word problems that I would fully understand how much time it would take it “one panicked Hockey Mom drove home at 110 miles per hour and hockey stated yesterday, how long would she be able to beat her middle daughter before she missed the action all together”?
Please keep in mind, when it comes to kids ice hockey there is one golden rule we all live by: you never, EVER miss. Anything. Practice, meetings, games, ice time… Did I say never? Ever? Trust me, in this world you do not was to be that mom. Ever. Never. Ever.
Now, from here on out I will leave out many of the painful and excruciating details (which also included, leaving behind his stick, water bottle and snack to name a FEW). Long story short, as it ended up… now prepare yourselves… this particular Sunday was the annual figure skating Christmas show, hockey was postponed until later that afternoon. We apparently didn’t get the memo. Bam.