So this is an odd-sounding post, right? So I shall explain before you think it is anything other than honorable.
He's an honorable boy, that one. At least that's what I am trying to claim as my take-away from today.
Today he had a soccer game. Two actually. It was day two of a tournament.
And I was dressed for the day. Or as best as someone in Indiana in early May can be dressed for the day...you know, layered up and ready to shed and/or add layers as the wind dictated.
So I was wearing a super-cute black with white polka-dots short-sleeved blouse. Not because I wanted to wear a blouse for watching my son's soccer games...but because I love the blouse and I felt like wearing it.
But because it was early May in Indiana, I wore a long-sleeve white t-shirt underneath. And a black jacket on the top. It may not sound it, but it was cute. I promise.
However, over the course of the morning, it got a little warm with all those layers. So, like the good little former soccer player I was, I tried to do the "remove the bottom layer without anyone being the wiser" trick by pulling my arms inside both shirts and then putting them back through the shirt on the top, then removing the undershirt from under by taking it off over the head. Voila!
It's one of those necessary tricks I had to learn as a girl (and especially a girl on a boy's soccer team) when I had to change jerseys and there was no where private to change.
Those boys did not need to see my skivvies.
Unfortunately I had never tried it with a blouse. Learning point here so pay attention and do not try this at home: a blouse does not like this trick.
In fact, it so rebelled that I popped not one but two buttons. Oh yes.
Fortunately I still had the shirt on underneath which I had to wrangle my arms back into.
But still, I felt oh-so-exposed and uncomfortable.
And worst of all...very warm.
So I paid little attention to the rest of the 12yo's soccer game, instead scheming how I could get myself into a short-sleeve shirt. And then it occured to me: my son has two uniforms.
Unfortunately for me, he was going to need them both over the course of the day. He was wearing the black one, but for the afternoon game he was going to need the red one. Which left me with two options: wear the funky one he was currently wearing, or wear the red one for most of the day, changing out of it just before the game so he could be properly dressed.
I opted for the funky black one. Most assuredly you are thinking "Yikes!" and you would be correct. It was FUN-KY.
But I am getting ahead of myself.
As soon as the game was over, I made a bee-line toward my son. Fortunately for me, he had already changed out of it into his warm-up shirt.
I said to him (after I congratulated him on playing well, of course!): Dude, I need your black jersey.
12yo: Ummm what?
Me: I need your black jersey. Is it in your bag?
12yo: Yeah but why?...
Me: I popped two buttons on my blouse and even though I have a shirt underneath it, I still feel a little "exposed" and nobody wants to see all that!
Without further hesitation, he reached around to his backpack and pulled out the jersey. "You're right mom, nobody wants to see that!"
I am mostly trying to NOT be insulted by my son's observation and mostly just be thankful that he and I can wear the same size shirt.
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