My 15 year old daughter is a freshman in high school. In one of her classes she has to rewrite and memorize a “slam poem” (don’t ask me, I have no clue what it is and I haven’t gotten around to Googling it yet). Continue reading →
It’s 10pm and I’m two hours away from home attending an all night, indoor softball tournament with my teenage daughter’s travel team. Our second game doesn’t start until 1:30am so I’m hanging out in the hotel lobby where most of the team and parents are staying.
I love people watching, and I especially love listening to the random snippets of conversation that flow my way:
“Look, Speedo Guy is back!”
“That Super Bowl commercial with the baby/monkey/dog face swap thingamabob creeped me out!”
“I ordered pasta and they gave me four orders of hot wings. I still don’t think this will fill me up.”
“You’re eating jalapenos? Third base is going to be napalmed tonight!”
(In a loud whisper) “Don’t get on the elevator with Speedo Guy!”
“Where’s Coach?” (Someone answers that he’s in the bathroom.) “Oh man, he’s gonna be gone for 20 minutes and I feel sorry for anyone who enters that bathroom now!”
“The whip cream tastes waxy.”
And something I didn’t expect to hear from my 15 year old daughter:
“I’m going to go heat up my coffee.”
It’s just the beginning of a long night. I think I’ll take my daughter’s lead and have another cup myself.