I love this town!! We are here for our last soccer tournament and as usual, I have my eyes open for weirdness. Which I have found in Spades.
We got to the field on Saturday morning at our appointed time. And I didn’t even get lost. Which is not so weird, since I was following someone who knew where she was going. Anyway, it was freezing cold, but as I shrugged into my jacket, I found a pair of mittens!! Ok, fine, it was a lucky chance, but I am still chalking it up to my good planning and general preparedness.
The girls have to be at the field an hour before the game to warm up and do war dances and make ritual sacrifices to the soccer gods and that sort of thing. That leaves the parents with a lot of time on their hands to moan about how they are freezing their asses off and wonder aloud why they indulge their children in their pasttime. A group of us were huddled together and trying to decide if we would get arrested for building a fire out of old shinguards when the wife of the team manager walked over to us.
“Hey, come over here,” she whispered conspiratorially.
We all huddled around her, she glanced around to make sure no one else was listening and she said “Steve just got the bags for the tournament and he refuses to hand them out. He says it’s not appropriate.” For the uninitiated, at every tournament we get some sort of party favor. It’s usually a patch or a doodad, and sometimes we get brochures about what there is to do in town, that sort of thing. My interest was immediately piqued. What was in those bags? Naked pictures of Beckham?? Cigarette lighters?? Rolling papers?
She went on “I have no idea why they’ve done this, but there are bottles of FEMININE POWDER in every bag.”
I immediately fell over, howling with laughter. She looked pained and said “there are ten-year old girls at this tournament! What in the world were these people thinking?? Steve said he WILL NOT distribute them!”
Well, I volunteered immediately. Far be it for me to miss out on the fun of watching the girl’s faces when they pulled out their goodies! We agreed that I would be the one to distribute them.
The game started, my child was a maniac, and the game was good. But when she was subbed out of the game, I decided it was time to visit the facilities. So I headed for the bathroom. And there, to my surprise and delight, was a table with bottles of COMPLIMENTARY FEMALE POWDER!!! And a big sign over it that said HELP YOURSELF!!!
This disturbed me on so many levels!! They were large bottles, not small ones. So if you were actually going to “HELP YOURSELF” it would be hard to disguise from the world that you have a problem with feminine odor and wetness!! And who is going to take a big, community bottle of powder into the stall, use it, and then PUT IT BACK OUT ON THE TABLE FOR SOMEONE ELSE TO USE!!!!!!! No wonder MRSA is rampant!!! How about CRABS?? How about GENITAL WARTS???!!! How about the whole concept is too disgusting for words!!!! Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, I declined the honor of using the feminine powder, did my business and went back to the field. After the game, I got the bags and another mom and I headed across the field with our prizes. The coach was talking to the girls seriously, trying to address mistakes made, trying to pump them up for the next game. I took one of the bottles out of a bag and held it up behind his back. The girls looked at me strangely. I then proceeded to shake it on my head, in my armpits, on my butt, whereever I could.
Finally, the coach caught on and said very coldly “GIRLS…EYES ON ME PLEASE!!” Oops, I guess I was in trouble. After he was done, I apologized and then gave the girls their bags and told them to put all the feminine powder in the coach’s bag. After all, he deserved to enjoy the product too!