Chapter 65
The grade school football team got its season off to a fine start this past week.
And there was my son, all decked out in his red DAVIS jersey and his white football pants that I’ve been so careful not to wash with his red pajamas.
Beats me why pink pants are so detestable when they judge how good of a player they are by the amount of brown dirt they accumulate in a game.
I had my doubts as to whether he’d ever get to play on the first day of practice.
Actually, the practice went just fine. It was afterwards—after I’d eaten football for supper, after I’d seen him in all that garb no less than a dozen times, and after my brain was thoroughly programmed for nothing else but football—that accident happened!
He came through the door with one hand covering his eyes, the other hand catching the blood flowing from his nose and mouth and screaming that he was blind. I did what any mother would do. I bellowed for his father and I panicked.
My ‘football’ brain went to work immediately. I wondered if the plays could be written in braille, how much a braille dictionary would cost, and if our chihuahua-poodle cross could be trained to lead him to practice.
Then my brain jumped tracks and the more practical side immerged.
As I watched ‘him recover his sight as he washed bushels of dirt out of his eyes and listened to his story about falling out of the neighbor’s swing, I began to fear that we’d be sued for destroying property.
There had to be at least half of his top soil going down my drain.
Suddenly I could see an astronomical dental bill, then his dad announced that his teeth were all still intact.
I let out a sigh of relief and tried to remember which store had Drano on sale.
Five or six cans MIGHT wash the dirt on down the drain.
But all healed well in spite of the fact that he looked like he’d tried to kiss Big Foot’s girlfriend instead of the hard dirt.
And there he was in all the excitement playing his very first football game.
After the town and school, we were in last year it really was exciting!
The most excitement we had there was the day TWO cars went through town, and we got to watch the dust settle.
Everything about the game was fun. Well, almost everything.
There was this one referee who had one of those red service station clothes in his hip pocket and he thought he to wear the thing out in one ball game.
He kept yanking it out and throwing it down, all the while waving his hands and blowing on that whistle.
Now if we could just get him to understand that he isn’t to wear that little cloth out in one game, we’d have it made!