Thanking God for a Twit This Morning

I think I'm becoming too frazzled to function.  Ever since children started arriving I've learned to live with a certain amount of chaos and anarchy.  There is no completely peaceful moment in your life once the short people make their appearance.  However, there are limits and you reach a point that you have to stop yourself, slap your self upside the hide and reign it all in.  That moment just hit me.  Like a ton of LEGOS and Littlest Pet Shop in the face.

Saturday morning cricket.  Ahhhhh, 3 hours of watching an activity I can't bring myself to call a sport.  I know there are people booing and hissing at me right now; that's OK.  You people live in your little world of long white pants in the summer, not running when you hit the ball and taking 2 weeks to play a single game. I'm comfortable in my skin of of liking sports where you're expected to hit people.  Since my daughters are doing Little Athletic's on Saturdays as well Ted and I are dividing and conquering.  He takes them to Little A's and I take Teddy to cricket.  Last night I checked the schedule as I knew the game was in Wahroonga, but I didn't know when or which oval in Wahroonga.  There are lots.  Trust me. Cricket is huge in this country

Because Teddy has been playing with the same boys for 4 years and the same parents volunteer to do things every year (GOD BLESS THEM!!) I just did a quick search for the team managers name in Gmail and found the Google Docs link for the schedule.  I scanned down the list for the name Wahroonga, found it and learned it was on Cliff Avenue at 8 am.  Bugger, that's early.  Oh well, such is life.  Suck it up Cupcake.

7:30 am this morning we are off.  I'm deliberately trying to be a little late so I don't get asked to score.  Yes, that's juvenile.  I understand that.  I am ashamed of myself.  I am a bad person.  Mea Culpa.  10 minutes into the ride I ask Teddy if he has his hat.  Now, this is not just to complete the uniform.  He will be out in the open field for over 3 hours and has 1 tiny speck of Melanin in his entire body.  He will fry.  Of course, since Teddy has had his kit bag packed and in the boot (trunk) for days he looks at me dead pan with disgust...then remembers that he doesn't have it.

TWIT!!  Grrrr. Now I have to turn back and we're REALLY going to be late.  Sheesh!  I hand him the phone and have him type out a text to the manager saying that he's forgotten the hat and we'll be late.  A few minutes later we get the response, "No worries!  Game isn't until 9"

What?  9am?  What's he talking about?  I checked the sheet, it said 8.  This doesn't make sense but I do start to curtail my mocking of Teddy about forgetting the hat.

We return home and I run to the computer.  I log in and open my gmail account and search for his name.  That's when I notice that 2 email addresses pop up for him.  I had clicked on the first one.  When I open that Google Document that's when I see my mistake.

This is a schedule from LAST SEASON.  The damn date isn't even right. I just looked for the city name and nothing else.  Biting my tongue I back out and look at the other email address. Yes, there are more emails with schedules and yes, here is one from this season. I scan for Wahroonga AND today's date.  Of course I'm sure you've guessed it.  The game isn't on Cliff Ave, it's on Yanilla Avenue.  On the complete opposite side of Wahroonga.  I would have been an hour early and then had to spend that time driving around trying to find the correct oval.  Since we all know how WONDERFUL Apple Maps is right now I'm sure I would have been directed to Melbourne.

The worst part is that Teddy knows.  He knows we dodged a bullet and the dodge came from him forgetting his hat.  He's walking around preening like he's discovered Unobtainium or something. This boy is his father's son.  He will never forget this and never forget that I was wrong.  There will be no living with him now.  And dammit, he is right.  He did save us.  And now, I have to come up with a new reason to be late so I'm not asked to score.  Too much effort this early in the morning.

Cricket is No Longer a Bug

Alright, yes it is bug still but in my mind it's no longer JUST a bug.  Teddy has been selected for his school's Rep Cricket team as the wickie.  Also known as the wicket keeper.  Which is sort of like a catcher.  Sort of.  Today I drove him and his mates to the field so they could play another school.  He has a large kit bag for his stuff and then tonight he has cricket training for his team for the local club.

What the Hell is this nonsense?  MY son plays cricket?  We're Americans for Chrissake!  We play football and baseball and basketball and hit things hard and laugh outrageously loud.  Ted is a massive Minnesota Vikings groupie, I adore my Steelers.  Ted's dad is a Giants worshipper and has even raced stock cars and the latest generation of Tencza dresses in all white to stand around for days and cheering when the bowler ALMOST gets someone out?  Wha??

When we first moved to Australia Teddy tried to play baseball but it was hopeless.  In Year 1 they were still playing t-ball.  Just plain silly.  Plus all of Teddy's friends played cricket so the following year he wanted to try it and was hooked.  So now we go to cricket games and think, "Oh wow, it's a short game today, only 4 hours"

But people go for the day, even days to see these cricket games.  Aussies love their cricket.  The weird rules - you can run if you don't hit the ball, they stop game for tea breaks, and the team captain is supposed to turn in his own teammates for unsportsmanlike like conduct, all of it, they love it.  Even the 2 or 3 Australians who don't like sports know about cricket.  Ask ANYONE about Don Bradman, and you'll be gently reminded that it's SIR Don Bradman. 

So here we are, Americans living in Australia and our oldest child plays cricket.  5 years ago I heard the word I thought of a chirping insect and now I think of an entire day sitting outside watching paint dry.  At least I can bring my iPod.

The day I can watch without getting pissed that he's wearing all white and rolling around in the mud that's when I know I'm Australian.