This week marks the second full week that we don’t have to deal with football practice and I am good with that.
Now that football season is over and my eyelid has stopped twitching from nervousness that my son will get hurt, I am looking for the good sport. Not for me – for my son – but maybe it really is for me.
The good sport is one where your kid will never get hurt. No concussions, no broken bones, no bruises. Nothing to make a mother’s eyelid twitch or require trips to the hospital, doctor’s office or drug store. Nothing that requires an ambulance parked like a lady-in-waiting at each game.
Earlier this summer, I thought perhaps it was golf until we went to a driving range. My son swung and the club flew off and went about 150 yards. It was farther than any ball he hit. On the next swing, he hit the ground and the club actually broke in half. My eye started to twitch right about then. The looks from the guy behind the counter drove us from the range soon after. (Too bad you can’t just putt the whole time. I’d be okay with just putts.)
Now basketball season has begun and I am hoping he won’t hit the wall, fall, twist something or get poked in the eye or some other painful place. I am the wimp, not him. It is my job to worry and I do it very well.
Until the games begin I hope to enjoy the next couple of weekends with calm eyelids. While waiting to pick up our kids, I shared my problematic twitch with one of the other moms. She suggested (very sweetly too) that I wear an eye patch. Perfect. A pirate. Just call me Peg.
“Every evening I turn my worries over to God. He’s going to be up all night anyway.” ~ Mary C. Crowley