Without question I am the unusual dad at Parish events. I made it to 9am mass today, if only to hand in the envelope. Not sure if I save any money by doing this every week. Might be 500 bucks to not be "in parish.". I probably spend that much during the course of the year. Maybe, for that half hour I do find some peace. I think for 30 seconds today I did have some quiet reflection. To me, that is well worth it.
After that, I took N and her buddy to a softball clinic for 2 hours. There are 4 stations that coaches, of which I am one, provide instruction. I was in the infield section. Essentially I watched girls throw like girls over and over again. Some got better. Some wanted to learn. Some were giant pains in the ass. N came to my group last. Toward the end of the drills I would roll the ball to each girl, have them field, and then fire a throw back to me. Naturally, the one roll that was not fielded cleanly during the entire session managed to roll up N's arm and hit her square on the jaw.
Of course I am the giant asshole who maliciously attacked her. Whatever. My coaching days are clearly coming to an end. She refuses to listen to anything I say yet blames me for all her imperfections. Ah parenting, teach me more please.
We had an hour break before her final travel basketball game. We avenged our only loss of the year with an overall quality team win. N was fantastic, as were most ofnher teammates. There are a few girls who are there mainly because there parents throw then into it. They have little, if any business owning sneakers, let alone playing against others. But I really can't blame the kids. They are 8. It's the parents who need to get a grip. These are the people who refuse to make eye contact with me when they see me on the train. I have known/seen you and your daughter for 4 years now. We have been at parties together. You know my name and I know yours. Look up from your fucking book and just nod for Christ's sake. You don't even have to say hi. Now, I have to see your face and utter disregard in your daughter. I now know why she asks (read :interrupts) coach inane questions before the game. I now understand why she freezes and holds the game hostage when she steps on the court. It's all because of her elitist, asocial monsters who have raised her. And the cycle will certainly continue.
I just struggle to gauge the timeline of what is socially acceptable. At 8 the parents are still to blame. But, what about 10? When do start hating the kid? When should they know better?
Right, lighten up I guess. Don't think I can these days. Found out at car transaction last night that I was a key reason a manager at dealership was fired. As we were signing papers I asked about waving fees and "deal" that was made by hostile manager the other day. I voiced my displeasure about him and the phone call he made. I asked where said manager was. "He is no longer with the company." was the response I got. I talked with the sales rep after and questioned whether my emails/texts were the reason he was canned. He confirmed it was.
And inside, ok outside too, I smiled. Fuck this guy for calling me and giving me shit for how this transaction was going. He is not doing me any favors. I'm buying the car!!! Customer service is a lost art. And, having worked in the service industry before, I expect more. I expect to be treated fairly. I demand respect. I don't need a rub and tug. I don't want to haggle for a price. Smile. Say please and thank you. Don't bullshit me and we will be fine.
Sounds like I am talking about parenting again... And in a way I am. Begins and ends right here. It is why I made sure N got a kiss and reassurance as I put her to bed. It is why I want to know she is polite when she is with friends and their families. I refuse to raise an asshole.
Seems like we got plenty right now, and many more to come...
Now back to the Grammy's... More on them tomorrow maybe.