In all seriousness, my mom purchased a cowbell in order to cheer on my brother (a starter on the varsity football team). Read that again. A cowbell. Cheering on your son is completely understandable and in a crowd of nearly 1000 people you want your voice to be heard. But maybe it has something to do with the fact that it's the same high school I used to attend and I'm indeed not as far removed from it as I thought I've been....I am embarrassed by the cowbell. I'm a grown, married woman venturing back to my old stomping grounds to cheer on my baby brother yet when the cowbell dongs I get sudden flash backs of being a fragile sophomore sitting on the bleachers. Or perhaps it's when the marching band plays a quick beat to pick up the crowd and my mom bangs on her cowbell in a rhythmic pattern that gives away the fact that she used to be in the marching band. I'm not sure. But I know it's just me because everyone around her, including Michael, sees nothing wrong with it. Why doesn't anyone else want to shout, "I've got a fever and the only prescription is more cowbell!"? Last home game she stood up to leave and asked if I wouldn't mind carrying the cowbell home. I recoiled and shouted, "NO!" I don't like it but that cowbell brings out some insecurities and embarrassment that I was not aware I had.
I've got to get going, we are driving back for the next home game tonight.
1 comment:
Hahaha. I love the cowbell. And I love that you refused to bring it with you when your mom left..you are too funny :)
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