Friday, March 31, 2006
pre-softball
At five o'clock I pulled up to the concession stand in between the four baseball fields to pick up Amanda and Emilee's softball uniforms. The place is consumed with a sort of chaos that can only be matched by the day that all of the Girl Scout cookies arrive and need to be sorted by troop and then by girl.
*shudder*
I thanked my lucky stars that I didn't have to do anything more than grab my girls uniforms and leave. Standing next to a stack of about thirty giant cardboard boxes labeled with various team names, I watched the short redhead that is the coach's wife scurry around madly trying to move this here and that there.
She walked over to another woman and got five square boxes from her and then carried them over to a shelf and set three down, bringing me the other two. The organizational freak in me got very excited at this cute little cardboard box that seemed to have a presorted and complete uniform in it.
Until she handed the two boxes to me and they were curiously heavy for clothing. I looked down and read Premium Chocolate Bars.
"Uhhh, we didn't order any chocolate bars."
"Oh, I know. Each girl is to sell one box."
That can't be too bad. The box wasn't really that big.
"Oh, ok... how many are in each box?"
"Fifty."
Fifty plus fifty is one hundred.
One hundred chocolate bars.
I laughed and said, "I should just write you a check for a hundred bucks and stick both boxes in my freezer."
She did not look amused.
When I put the two boxes of chocolate into my trunk, after promising to take them out immediately so they wouldn't melt (it's eighty degrees here), she climbed into the bed of her pick up truck and handed me two bags. Each was labeled with my daughters names and number on their jersey.
Amanda is eleven and Emilee is two. Which I though was kind of cool since when you add the ones in eleven together you get two.
Don't feel bad, everyone else thought I was nuts too.
Then again, everyone else didn't suffer through the insanity of living with my mom. Who adds all numbers together all the time until they match up in some way that she deems cool enough to tell us about.
Mrs. Coach's Wife then proceeded to run over the entire schedule for Saturday, which is long and sucks in case you were wondering, before waving goodbye and running off to help some absolutely adorable and most likely underage dude.
So, I get in the car and the girls start pulling out the different peices of their new uniforms. They loved the hats and questioned whether the shirts would be too big and then Emilee pulled out a pair of pants and held them up. I asked her if they were too big and she said she didn't know. So, I asked her to check the tag and see what size they were and Amanda said, "they're size tacky, that's what size they are."

01ul
so eloquently put by katehopeeden at 12:35 AM
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