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Gymnastics Bring Out My Inner Jerry Springer

January 12, 2011

Organized sports aren’t really my thing. I like getting together with like-minded ladies for a bowl of Pho, or even a hot yoga class. But running after each other trying to catch a Frisbee or kick a ball? No thank you.

I am, therefore, the antithesis of the hockey/soccer/whatever-blows-your-skirt-up parent. As long as my kid has fun, mission accomplished.

Case in point: when my then four-year-old played Blast Ball (a precursor to T-ball) a few years ago. He spent his time in the outfield talking on his “cell phone” (a rock) so much that his coach had to implore him to, “Hang up and call them back later.”

Waiting on the bench when his team was at bat, he convinced the other kids to join him in kneeling on the bench with their heads to the ground, butts in the air, (literally) playing possum.

He only lasted one season and since then he’s pursued more solitary sports, so I haven’t had the displeasure of running into douchey parents. Until yesterday.

My three-year-old started gymnastics and she was pumped: pink leotard with sparkles? Check. Matching scrunchy? Check. Lightning McQueen tattoos on her forearms? Check and check.

She was led onto the floor and parents settled in the viewing area behind glass windows (p.s. when kids are participating in sports, I think their parents should always be separated from them by massive sheets of glass). My daughter was awesomely hilarious and the Serb and I giggled like lunatics at her unbearable cuteness for a full hour.

The best – and by that I mean worst – part was the lady beside me. Ms. Stick Up Her Ass was simultaneously bossing her twin boys around while watching her five-year-old daughter, muttering things like, “You’re supposed to be jumping, not falling.”

She then turned on a sweet little girl who was toddling around the viewing area with a slight cold (i.e. like every kid everywhere in the history of forever):
“Please stop putting your fingers in your mouth and touching our toys.”
“Stop coughing in our direction.”
“Find your own toys.”
“Where are your snacks?”
“Put down those toys. Now.”

I’d hoped that my, “Oh my gawd” with accompanying eye roll would discourage her priggish ways, but in the change room afterwards we saw her lecturing the sniffly kid’s mom about hygiene.

If that cow is there next week, gymnastics just might become a contact sport.

Kill. Me. Now.

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19 Comments leave one →
  1. ryoko861 permalink
    January 12, 2011 7:51 am

    Oh, I hate parents like that….BUT….where was that little girls mom?

    Recreational sports are a “babysitter” for some parents. You’re just starting out.WAIT…it’ll get better!! When the coaches are favoriting THEIR kid over yours for a certain position on the team. Or football. If you daughter gets involved in CHEERLEADING! Oh what fun you’ll have with THAT one! I’ve been there done that and I’m SO glad my kids are out of it! Hopefully, you’ll have a better experience than I did in this arena. Good luck!

    • January 12, 2011 9:07 am

      Ok – you’re scaring me now!

      And the girl’s mom was there trying to wipe her nose, distract her, etc. But the unwritten rule around here is, if you bring a crap-load of toys to the park/gym/etc., be prepared to share. These twins had a garbage bag full of stuff with a full picnic spread out and the mom was hilariously paranoid about the slightest germ touching her kids/their stuff. And her tone was b.r.u.t.a.l.

      I’m going to take someone down before they graduate elementary school, I swear!

  2. January 12, 2011 11:00 am

    Maybe there should be a windows between parents too. Bubble stands. But my money’s on you, next week.

  3. January 12, 2011 12:42 pm

    LOL @ Ms Stick Up Your Ass…what was she thinking? She could do all that tutoring at home. I think most parents die to be part of the game (probably because they never got to do it when they were kids).

    I personally just suck it up when I attend sports for my cousins. I leave them to do what they do, and if they come up short, oh well – thats the point of a competition.

    Blessing
    info@workingmomjournal.com
    http://www.workingmomjournal.com

    PS – I added you to my blogroll, you are just too funny.

  4. January 12, 2011 4:04 pm

    TAKE HER DOWN DYAN!!! take her down….
    oh and rub some snot on her at the same time….yeah!

    • January 12, 2011 9:38 pm

      Can I swing by your place and get some extra snot? I hear you have TONNES! 😉

      • January 13, 2011 9:20 pm

        Take her down, get snot everywhere and make the Serb take pictures (for our enjoyment, of course!)…….video would be preferable.

  5. January 12, 2011 4:48 pm

    Kick her ass Sea Bass! Hehe I think I would have had to sneeze in her direction. I love it when other parents think they are better than you and feel they must school you in being a parent.

  6. January 12, 2011 5:56 pm

    Lori – here’s the plan: you move here. We attend all kid activities together. Once the evening news gets sick of featuring us, lessons will have been taught, bruises will have healed and we will have changed the world!

    • January 12, 2011 9:43 pm

      Um – yes please! You are heeelarious.

      FYI, you should never make offers of moving to Canadians in January – we may just show up at your door. No…seriously.

  7. January 13, 2011 12:17 am

    Big thanks to Paige for sending you my way ~ you are hysterical! Wish there were more of you (and less of the douchey parents – cough). I have stories about all the organized sports we tried. Yikes.

    Needless to say, my kids would rather play possum and talk on rock cell phones.

    I think we’re going to get along just fine…

    • January 14, 2011 9:48 am

      I need all of you sassy blog moms (bloms? mogs?) to move north.

  8. The Perfectly Imperfect One permalink
    January 13, 2011 1:12 am

    Lol I can’t wait to read about that one! 🙂 I would have yelled at her right then and there.

    • January 14, 2011 9:48 am

      My husband is also very curious/mortified to see how I’ll react…

  9. January 13, 2011 10:49 am

    Tackle her. Straddle her. Then dangle a long string of spit from your mouth, sucking it up at the last minute. Or not.

    😉

    And I’ll second the warnings about cheerleading: Oh. My. God. My advice is to start drinking now — you’ll need the fortification to prevent complete insanity as you watch your future-6-year-old mindlessly — and flirtatiously — reciting drivel like, “I’ve got the boys on my mind and — woop — they’re looking fine!”

    Just shoot me now.

    • January 14, 2011 9:50 am

      I need to show up there with you all in my gang to teach these parents some lessons – we could hit the soccer complex and hockey rinks aftewards!

  10. January 13, 2011 5:55 pm

    I would so like to be there for your next run-in with this woman. Because I predict that this is only the beginning of her asshole-ishness.

    Also, won’t you be disowned as a Canadian for NOT being a hockey parent? Don’t worry. I won’t alert the Mounties.

    • January 14, 2011 9:49 am

      Check you out with your Canuck humour…we’re gonna send you some Timbits as a reward (Timbits = heaven)

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