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April 24, 2005

rocks and sticks

How did it get to be Sunday evening already? The weekend, which stretched in front of me endlessly on Friday noon, accordioned into a jumble of errands, stoplights, snatched meals, not enough sleep, not enough done, not enough time off, not enough anything. And here we are, practically at the end of it. Is Sunday night anybody's favorite night?

I took Moo to his lacrosse game late this afternoon. It was a strange day, weather-wise: more like fall than like late April. Dark clouds, the threat of rain, windy, chilly, virga in the distance that turned into a cold shower once it reached us. Standing on the field as the teams began to play (Moo's team is the Lizards--who on earth felt that naming a team after cold blooded, mostly somnolent animals was a good idea?), I could almost imagine going home to Thanksgiving dinner after it was over.

I followed Moo up and down the field, freezing, watching them play. Herself ran around picking dandelions to make a bouquet. I have no idea what lacrosse is about other than two teams chasing a ball and whacking each other with poles that have mesh baskets at the end. Whacking being the operative word here. I watched Moo smack the shit out of some other kid and waited for the referee to blow his whistle--nope. Apparently smacking the shit out of the other players is the point. What a great game!

The Lizards lost, despite their enthusiasm for inflicting pain on the other team. Seven to nothing. Seven to nothing has been the score for the last three games. If they can keep it up until the end of the season--keep on getting the same score--it will be a record, of sorts. But I refrained from pointing this out to Moo or his friend Mark, both of whom compared wounds on the drive home but didn't say much else, preferring to swig Gatorade and stare out the window while Herself sang along with the radio.

Traffic was light and we flew down 95. The clouds broke and a hint of a setting sun shone in the west. The end of the weekend. The end of a lost game. The end of warm weather for a while. Jack and Spike were waiting at the door when we got home. Omelettes for everybody. "Mom," Moo said to me confidentially as we cleaned up the kitchen, "Let's you and me take tomorrow off and go see Sin City."

Posted by JudyLa at 07:44 PM | Comments (0)