stay at home moms and gold medals

Rainy day today. One of those days where you wanna curl up on the couch with a good book and hot chocolate and spend the afternoon in a different world. Instead I'm stuck at work, staring out the window trying not to fall asleep or die of boredom. Every few minutes I'll jab angerly at my IPod for playing a bad song (why can't it read my mind and play what I want. Come on Steve Jobs, why haven't you fixed that problem yet?!). Or jump in anticipation at the phone ringing only to see it isn't my line.



Have you ever looked for deeds at the recorders office? Sorry. Random question I just got from my boss. The answer is no. Maybe this afternoon will change that. Here's to hoping!



Now, on to the good stuff.



Fact # 814. "Tug-of-war was an Olympic sport in the early 1900s."

I have a gem of a wound story from childhood related to tug-of-war (and when I say related, I mean fifth cousin half removed-dogs-groomers-lawyers-brother related) which I will share later.

But really, tug-of-war as a sport? That's like curling as an Olympic sport. I mean, really? Lets put dodgeball and four-square and see-sawing in as sports too. Although see-sawing would be awesome. The larger people (the anchors from the tug-of-war team) could compete and always win. It's a game of who can last on the see-saw longest. Skinny people beware for butt bumps!!! Heck, lets just turn the Olympics into field day from elementary school. Force everyone to compete even if they don't want to. Especially in the relay races. Because who doesn't love to see a little fat kid lose by three minutes on the 100-yard dash. Screw training for your entire childhood, missing out on 'important' life-milestones (like prom, graduation, first hangover, etc.), and possibly damaging your body so bad that you can never function normally again. We are all winners, right?! At least that's what we're supposed to tell the kids.

Side note: I totally just saw two tweens/teens dancing out on the sidewalk. In the middle of the pouring rain. And it was really funny. They looked into the office window when finished and grinned and I waved. Totally made my day. Thanks rain-dancing kids!

But seriously, there are some sports that don't appear to be that difficult. Example: curling. Although I am like Bambi when I get on ice, most other people seem to be able to seem at least semi-coordinated on ice. She ability to function on ice, check for most of the population. Ability to use a broom, check. Ability to push an object in a straight line, check. I think we have curling covered. Heck, I know some stay-at-home moms that are awesome with a broom. They need to start training and win some medals in 2014! Who am I kidding, the winter olympics are like your best friend's little brother who follows you around everywhere yelling "what for me guys! I wanna play too guys!". We only watch them because they invade our TV and it's either the Winter Olympics, re-runs of Law & Order :*insert letters here* (because you can ALWAYS find some L&O or bastard child of L&O on TV. And don't let me fool you. I love me some CI and SVU), or the HSN, which happens to be selling collectible plates with winter olympic stars. Don't get me wrong, I completely respect the athletes and all the hard work they've done (I'm talking about the real athletes, not curlers or people who shoot guns, then run, then bike-because we can all do that-how many of us can do a triple axle and not land flat on our faces/butts). But who wants to watch something from Canada. I mean, really, it's Canada. Do have to hand it to the Canadians, they did up the ante a little when they made their track deadly. [Aside: my IPod totally just played "Ice Ice Baby". It's a sign from God.] That'll bring the crowds in. (Too soon? Sorry. Again, not hating on the athletes, and I send my sympathies out to Nodar Kumaritashvili's family and loved ones.) But the truth hurts. I mean, go type "winter olym" in google and one of the autocompletes is "winter Olympics 2010 death video". That's what our world has turned into.

Now that completely digressed. Who wants to hear about my painful childhood tug-of-war slightly related story?

So field day (irony, I think not), third grade (possibly fourth grade, my memory from that time is a little fuzzy. Everything was Alanis Moresette and Seventeen magazine and whatever else 8-year-olds do, because no 17 year old reads 17 magazine, only 15<>

After much shedding of tears and blood and skin, I am now blessed with a scar on each knee from my field day experience. No gold medals for me. Now that I think about this story, I should have sued the school. Dang.