And my excitement upon learning that my dad was selected as the assistant coach for our team could only be equated with the joy of a kid being nudged awake on Christmas morning by the pony Santa left him under the tree.
It was a HUGE honor for my dad to be selected among the nones of other volunteers for this position. (Nones is like tons, but slightly less. Kinda like zero.) And while I'm certain that his leadership abilities, charisma and natural athletic ability make him more than well-suited to lead us to victory this season, there's just one problem...
I am unwilling to share his attention with others.
Because when you have what you are positive is just the most amazing dad that ever lived, you don't want to see his attention diluted by all your friends who suddenly need help learning to catch and hit a baseball. Surely if left to their own devices, they'll figure it out.
The lack of one-on-one attention I am used to receiving left me with no other option but to pout for the majority of our first practice.
And while my dad was expecting that it might be a bit of a challenge to teach 4-year-olds to play ball (we're not the most coordinated bunch), he was not nearly prepared for how hard it was to get us to listen to him try!
Not to mention, Rowan was extremely dissatisfied that 2-year-olds were not considered for the team. While she tried twice to take it up with the assistant coach, both times he failed to see her right behind him, backed into her and knocked her to the ground.
Factor in my friend who was upset that someone else had better luck hitting the ball and it seemed as if the only thing we did with any coordinated effort at this practice was cry.
Looks like we've really got our work cut out for us this season.
1 comment:
You are hilarious!
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