Strike Three (and I'm not talking about bowling)

I hope I can still remember how to post--it has been that long. There are so many wonderful distractions that I have discovered on the computer with "Smilebox" and "Shutterfly."I have a gabillion (less than a gazillion, I think) ideas and new events that I wish to address on top of magnifyng my callings and perfecting my domestic skills.

The other day the phone rang. I didn't recognize the number. It was the Marv Jensen Fitness Center calling regarding Noah's baseball team. His team was minus a coach and they asked if either my husband or myself would be interested. I discussed the matter with Rick and he said he would be willing to do it if I would help. I told them that my husband would gladly do it. When I picked up the Rosters it said that I was the Coach and Rick was my Assistant. "I AM NOT THE COACH!"

So, the first team meeting was just a clinic and doggone the Coach, if he wasn't going to be gone. Rick was going to St. George and leaving me to run things. This was not what I signed up to do--RUN THINGS. Thank goodness for BITTER cold weather. All I had to do was hand out the team shirts and caps, get them enthused about our first game on Tuesday, and give them a refreshment. Naturally, I want things to run smoothly and so I made a refreshment sign up sheet and then reminder magnets for the refrigerator. The moms of players thought "You are so organized" and the dads are like, "as if I needed a magnet to remind me and even if I did need a reminder, I wouldn't use a magnet." (Venus verses Mars thing again and that is why I need Rick to be at all the games--TO RELATE TO ALL THE DADS!)

Rick went South. I was trying to muster up the confidence to step in for Coach Rick. I could tell Noah was thrilled. I asked him if he was excited that his dad and mom were going to coach his baseball team.   He corrected me quickly, "Mom you are not the Coach, you are the ASSISTANT Coach."Strike One-- Boy was I ever put in my place.

Later during the day, I overheard him talking to Grandma about baseball, "Yeah and my dad is going to be my coach and my mom is going to be the 'INSISTANT'coach."That was Strike Two and even though it is probably true, it didn't sound too great. The next conversation was with Grandpa and by now we were loading the car. Again in a very excited voice Noah said, "I'm going to play baseball and my dad is going to coach me and my mom is going to be the 'INSENSITIVE' coach"--ouch and Strike Three.

What I learned from Noah:  No matter where Rick may be, Dad will always be the "top dog" and the leader of our home, while Mom will always be just the Assistant:) and I'll take "Assistant" over "insistant" and "insensitive" any day.