So I wanted to know all about how he was doing so I texted him and asked. His reply? “Good”

Filled with that complete and exhaustive description of his return to college, I decided to take a garbage bag up to his room and start a process of elimination. It’s cleansing.

Good thing my daughters can form complete sentences and send me emails at least once a week about their lives.

I sent sonny boy a popcorn cake. My guess about his communication to me about it?

“Good”

—–

“To speak and to speak well are two things.  A fool may talk, but a wise man speaks.” ~ Ben Jonson

About as soon as I get used to this, it will be time for some break and then I will have to readjust again.

This semester I have a new worry as my student is taking his car to campus. Maybe gas will get so expensive he won’t go too far. And it would be better for everyone’s environment if he didn’t drive as the ink on his license is still drying.

He’s just putting together his list of what he needs, the list I asked him to make two weeks ago, for our after dorm check in trip to Walmart. It’s parents central there and it’s kind of fun to see who has the biggest load of dorm accoutrements in their cart. I pride myself on having one of the smallest loads, not because I am organized, but because I am so cheap.

He just told me his room is on the 6th floor. I think I may have pulled a muscle writing this post.

It’s a good thing that I have developed patience in my old age. Sometimes it’s a really long wait for the dorm elevators.

Here it is but you can click the link and download a very nice looking copy to keep in your purse and read at halftime.

Dear Lord and Protector, watch over my son,

As he takes his lickins’ since football

has begun. Now that it’s the end of the practice season,

I confess I am guilty of football mom treason.

On this eve of the first game, I am afraid that I dread,

Any playtime at all for my son, and with that said,

I hope he gets in, but for only a few minutes,

Because after an hour or so I get tired of fake grinning.

I want the team to do well, but could do without the bruises,

And that goes double for concussions and contusions.

My idea of a good game and a good season,

Is one where we don’t need a doctor, nurse or any EMTs in.

Oh why do they park that ambulance where I can see it?

Don’t they know it causes pain, nerve wracking and diarrhea?

I want the stretcher ready but completely out of sight,

So that I can keep injury out of mind until the end of the night.

Of course I have to be present at every game,

Calling on the angels and saints of every name.

Breathing heavy sighs of relief at the end of each quarter,

And with each tick of the clock, wishing that they were shorter.

Forgive me my stance, which is to pray,

That he doesn’t get in for most of the plays.

His prayer isn‘t the same, he wants to get in,

So we are on opposing sides, and I want to win.

And if he does get in, please make it quick,

And send the play far away because I feel kind of sick.

All that pushing, shoving and tackling can make a mom go crazy,

And wish that her child were perhaps, just a tad fat and lazy?

Even though he’s bigger and has more muscle than me,

My job is to worry and from what I can see,

Football is a wrinkle-maker and hearing hits way up in the stands,

Hasn’t done wonders for my husband, as I dig my nails into his hands.

Lord, be with me and all the moms throughout this night,

And be with all the kids during this game that closely resembles a fight.

Keep it injury free and let them have their fun,

Because I am no Vince Lombardi when it’s all said and done.

I will make it easy for you to download a complimentary copy here of the Cowardly Mom’s Football Prayer that I wrote during a very stressful football season after one concussion and various other scares involving limbs and bodily fluids that I would rather not remember.

But high school is over and I did survive, as did my son, and now those worrisome days have been pushed to the sidelines where only pick up games played with no equipment in the dark with friends with no adult supervision with older adults who may have had a beer or two prior to playing, are the only thing I contend with. So you see, I am without any worry about injury whatsoever now. It’s a great feeling.

Seriously, if you are worried, I hope the season flies by and your child stays healthy. Enjoy the fruits of my worry expressed through prose in this little beauty of a prayer/poem guaranteed to make any of my former English teacher’s pity how I wasted my talents all these years.

—-

“You have to play this game like somebody just hit your mother with a two-by-four.”  ~ Dan Birdwell

That’s one place I wouldn’t want to drive. A taxi ride is like exercise-it made me sweat. I thought teaching my kids to drive was bad. At least they speak English. Both types of drivers ignored me.

Got some new blisters, photos, tourist bling and memories. And some credit card activity to show for it.

Glad to be back home where the dog and cat missed me and the rest of the family doesn’t believe that I didn’t get lost at least once.

No. My sense of direction isn’t any better. I just ask a lot more questions now. And I don’t care if I look stupid either. Turns out it saves a lot of time to get help.

“Too soon old, too late smart. “

Now will be laminating this and a few other notes I found but I don’t know exactly why I do such things. Perhaps it’s so that when they bring them to me at the home I won’t drool on them and ruin them.

Then I had a brilliant idea. I will use them for drink coasters after I laminate them. My own personal crafts from the past.

Our 30th Anniversary is this weekend. I sure hope the kids didn’t get us a stay at a B& B. Ever since I walked in on the man on the toilet I just haven’t been able to enjoy my stays at such places.

Take look and give your opinion and reinforce what a good choice they made by choosing my question for discussion. And by the way, I think women age better.

(Just go to any 20th high school reunion and see what I mean.)