Frozen
Last week, it was my turn to be "snack mom" for my son's volleyball team.
Turned out that he was too sick to play that day (as has been the story of our lives since December) but we only live about ten minutes away from the gym, so I called the coach on Friday to let him know we would still be delivering the snacks despite Mr. P's illness.
It was shaping up to be a hot day, so I had the bright idea to put the Gatorades into the freezer to give them a really nice coolness.
Except I wasn't feeling all that great, and fell asleep.
Which meant that the Gatorades stayed in the freezer a bit too long, and wound up being sort of frozen.
Not completely frozen, but very close.
I let them sit on the counter for an hour before Hubba-hubba left to take them, but I wasn't sure if it had been enough.
When he got back, we all decided that it was warm enough that those semi-frozen Gatorades would hit the spot perfectly.
And I admit, it took quite a bit of poking the Gatorade with a straw in order to do anything with it, and it actually took us about an hour to drink/poke through the entire bottle.
Hubba-hubba was complaining about it the entire time, and telling me that all the other moms were making fun of me because I was the sucky mom who gave their kids Gatorade that they couldn't drink right after the game. My son complained about it too, mostly because he now thinks it is fun to gang up on me with his dad.
I told both of them to shut it.
Anyhoo, during the week he would tease me about it off and on, and I developed a bit of a complex about it. I vowed never to breathe a word that I was the mom who brought the too-frozen Gatorade. It would forever remain a mystery.
After the next week's practice, Mr. P told me that one of his teammates asked if his mom was the one who gave everybody the frozen Gatorade.
I held my breath, thinking that it couldn't possibly be true that this thing was coming back to haunt me. That it was SO BAD and traumatizing that the effects of it were still being felt almost a week later.
The child apparently told him that the drink being frozen was the BEST THING EVAR because the weather was so hot, and thanking me for thinking of such a good idea.
Take THAT Hubba-hubba.
Haven't you learned yet that I am always right?
Turned out that he was too sick to play that day (as has been the story of our lives since December) but we only live about ten minutes away from the gym, so I called the coach on Friday to let him know we would still be delivering the snacks despite Mr. P's illness.
It was shaping up to be a hot day, so I had the bright idea to put the Gatorades into the freezer to give them a really nice coolness.
Except I wasn't feeling all that great, and fell asleep.
Which meant that the Gatorades stayed in the freezer a bit too long, and wound up being sort of frozen.
Not completely frozen, but very close.
I let them sit on the counter for an hour before Hubba-hubba left to take them, but I wasn't sure if it had been enough.
When he got back, we all decided that it was warm enough that those semi-frozen Gatorades would hit the spot perfectly.
And I admit, it took quite a bit of poking the Gatorade with a straw in order to do anything with it, and it actually took us about an hour to drink/poke through the entire bottle.
Hubba-hubba was complaining about it the entire time, and telling me that all the other moms were making fun of me because I was the sucky mom who gave their kids Gatorade that they couldn't drink right after the game. My son complained about it too, mostly because he now thinks it is fun to gang up on me with his dad.
I told both of them to shut it.
Anyhoo, during the week he would tease me about it off and on, and I developed a bit of a complex about it. I vowed never to breathe a word that I was the mom who brought the too-frozen Gatorade. It would forever remain a mystery.
After the next week's practice, Mr. P told me that one of his teammates asked if his mom was the one who gave everybody the frozen Gatorade.
I held my breath, thinking that it couldn't possibly be true that this thing was coming back to haunt me. That it was SO BAD and traumatizing that the effects of it were still being felt almost a week later.
The child apparently told him that the drink being frozen was the BEST THING EVAR because the weather was so hot, and thanking me for thinking of such a good idea.
Take THAT Hubba-hubba.
Haven't you learned yet that I am always right?
Comments
1. Freeze Gatorade for hot days.
2. Tell their kid to Shut It.
3. Post both on the Interwebs.
Honestly, if you were any cooler, you'd be lethal.
...thinkin' we were separated at birth...
The valuable life lesson my girls have learned at preschool. Really, can't people just be thankful?