Monday, November 09, 2015

Hockey Sunday

 We didn't set an alarm yesterday morning because we figure the ids would wake us up, but then they didn't and we were SO LATE.

Jack had hockey; Harry had hockey at the almost same time at another rink, and Beatrix had an urgent grooming appointment.  And everyone needed breakfast.  And in my groggy just woke up state, I GOT IN THE SHOWER which was so stupid because it takes me a million years to get dressed and blow dry my hair.

Ben and Cooper took Harry with plans to drop off the dog, drop Harry off for his team meeting, and go to Dunkin Donuts.  I made Ben dress Jack completely including skate covers so all I would have to do would be help him on with his gloves and plunk his helmet on his head, assembled a quick breakfast to go for him and Dorothy, and loaded up the minivan.  We were almost exactly on time, so I asked Jack to grab his gloves, stick, and helmet, and run in while I parked.  He balked.  I was annoyed, but I parked and jumped out to rummage through his stinky bag for his stuff.  I could only find one glove.  I told Jack we might have to just go watch Harry because he was missing a glove.  He got all teary.  I called Ben to ask where the fuck the glove was (pretty much just like that).  He said he didn't know but that Jack could just borrow a glove when his line when out on the ice.  This seemed reasonable.  I relayed the message to Jack, who stated screaming and crying and said he would just only wear one glove.  I told him he couldn't do that.  He started like tantrumming in the parking lot which was so weird and out of character.  And really pissed me off.  We all got back in the car, and I drove toward Harry's game, screaming at ben via Bluetooth that hockey sucked and we were all quitting.  At the stop light where I was pulling out of the hockey rink-- still swearing at blameless Ben-- I realized one of the van's sliding doors was open.  I realized this because  a hockey dad ran up to my car and asked me if I needed help shutting it.  While I was screaming at Ben.   So.  That was awesome.

I made it to Harry's rink and told Ben he needed to take Jack back and figure out the game situation, hoping Jack could at least skate for a period by that point.  Then I took Cooper to Dunkin Donuts and watched Harry's first game of the morning, figuring I could never hang out with anyone associated with Jack's hockey team ever again after the door incident.

But then!  Ben texted to say there was a scheduling snafu and Jack's game was moved to Harry's rink, right in between Harry's games.  And since we were late, none of Jack's team was even AT the rink to witness my outburst because they all left to get breakfast before their actual game, and that random hockey dad was probably from Up North.  PROBLEM SOLVED.  Cosmic do-over.  3 hockey games in a  row at the same rink.  Perfect Sunday.

Jack had tons of fun, and Harry followed up Saturday's hat trick with an awesome breakaway goal the minute his line stepped on the ice.  Like, literally.  The puck was magically right there by his skate, and he swooped it high into the goal, grazing the goalie's shoulder, which is the exact shot he practices over and over in his net on our driveway, making a fake goalie out of sticks and skateboards to get the height right.

WE WERE SO COLD, even with our hot beverages.
 5 Guys for lunch!
 This is Harry this morning, looking through an NFL catalogue for Hanukkah, circling the jerseys he wants and adding post-its with players' names.  I told him those jerseys are $70 a pop and he probably won't get one every night of Hanukkah, and he looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language.  "Just have Santa get me some for Christmas," he said.

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