Adina’s Cute & Perky Blog!

So last night my oldest son had a football game.  As I walked in to the stadium, I see the guys warming up.

I stand at the fence watching the calisthenics with interest, trying to pick my child out of the sea of white jerseys with red numbers.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see two of the coaches staring at me.  I’m assuming they are flirting with me.  Then I see another friend look my way, and I’m thinking, “Boy this free Bally T-Shirt must fit me right.”

But I don’t have time to flirt, because I must find my son.  I must find number 74.

After several minutes of searching, I decide they must have switched his number.  Number 75 looks like him.  Sort of.  It’s hard to tell with a helmet and all.  And I don’t remember him being quite so awkward when he runs.  But I watch him with interest, while my friends watch me.

Then a white-hot moment of sheer brilliance strikes me.  Not only are we the Bulldogs vs. the Bulldogs, we are red and white vs. red and white.

I was not even watching the right team warm up.

And although I’m sure I was looking smashing in my Bally’s T, my friends were staring out of curiosity.  Wondering just how long I was going to watch the opposing team warm-up.

But y’all.  I stared long enough and hard enough till I found not only my child on the visitor’s team, but his best friend too.  Magically, his number had also been changed.

But I remember when I was big, I would stare in the mirror till I saw what I wanted to see.  If I would stand JUST right, and suck in my gut, and never be seen from the side, well, I had it going on.  I was a hot fat chick.

I saw what I wanted to see when I ate too.  If I looked long enough at the fries, I could convince myself they were really a vegetable.  Practically like dipping broccoli in ketchup.  Where’s the harm in that?  There is no harm there.

And my schedule?  I saw it as full or as empty as I wanted it to be.  I told myself it was OK that I didn’t go to the gym.  Look at my busy schedule.

Sometimes you can look too long at something…and create something that just isn’t there. 

If you have changes you need to make, stop staring at the wrong team.  Those white jerseys with red numbers are bad food, bad company, and bad excuses.  Who needs them for teammates?

Find the red jerseys with white numbers.  That is where you’ll find healthy food, lifting, hard work, and dedication.

And thank goodness that’s where I found my son.  That other kid really did run kind of awkward.  He’s on the wrong team….and they lost.

Go Bulldogs!!!

This entry was posted on Friday, August 29th, 2008 at 3:31 am and is filed under Other. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.