So I recently gave up my stupid Droid, not only because it's a Droid and it sucks, but because it's $40 extra a month, and I realized between our phones and our house internet, we were spending $120 a month... just for internet access. Do you have any idea how much alcohol I can buy for $120 a month? I also gave myself a pep talk and said to myself, "You will have three kids by the end of the summer, you should be responsible and cut spending blah blah, you don't need the internet on your phone because you will be pacing the living room when you are stuck here with two babies blah blah, stop counting down the days until your contract is up so you can get an iPhone, because it's just frivolous blah blah."
I want an iPhone so Mr. Wonderful and I can use Siri inappropriately like this...
In reality, having a smartphone is something like what I imagine would be to have a small addiction to heroin. I am literally feeling like my right arm has fallen off, and I think I now exist in the world of 90 year olds who have a cell phone only to keep their kids happy. I barely check Facebook, I have abandoned my friends on Draw Something, and I feel like I don't know how to drive anywhere without my Maps. (The GPS just seems archaic at this point). I also can't draw diagrams and upload them to my blog, or go on banned websites while I'm at my part time job. I can't do anything. I imagine this is what being grounded is like.
I promised in my last post that I would talk about Princess Particular's soccer team. Basically, she is in a soccer clinic and at the end, they play a game. But the problem is that Mr. Wonderful and I laugh at all the players (who are five to six years old) and give them nicknames. We also plot on how to make the fall session better by bringing concealed mimosas and man-mosas (If you don't know what a man-mosa is, I will be putting up a page with all of my best recipes... that I have stolen from other people. Just in case you want to be just like me) Mr. Wonderful said the other parents would give us judge-y looks if we showed up with red cups, but I said we simply put our cocktails in travel coffee mugs, and then everyone's happy. I am a very skeptical sports mom, not really ever sticking with one sport myself, and get most of my exercise now from shopping and carting around kids. I have to say, Princess Particular was totally pumped and looked absolutely adorable in her uniform, and was happy to get started. We only knew one girl in her group, who turned out to be Mia Hamm.
Ummmmm... we are here for kindergarten soccer.. are we in the right place?
Next, we have Chu from the movie Ladybugs; I tried so hard to find a picture of her and couldn't... if you don't know Chu, from the Rodney Dangerfield classic 90's movie, she is the goalie, and isn't really interested in soccer, she is interested in daydreaming about butterflies. We call one little boy Chu because he is the team's goalie- only the coach specifically said there are no goalies. Chu throws himself to the ground, all the way to the back of the goal, tangled up in the net, every time the ball is on his half of the field. After the coach pulls him from the ropes, he says an encouraging, "Hey buddy, let's go try to kick the ball.." Nope. Chu is back in position for another shot.
Ron Weasley is a cute little redhead on the team, named for his famous doppleganger. I don't suspect he's British in real life, but I like to give him dialogue such as, "Oy, toss me the football mate"
Slumdog Millionaire is one of my favorite players on the team. He has never touched a soccer ball. He is constantly having the ball stolen from him, at which point he runs off the field crying. He also has a talent for randomly falling to the ground. Somebody pass this kid the ball!
On a side note, there is one kid that I will be adopting, who we named Oliver Twist; because his dad is a total and absolute asshole. He spoke over the coach the whole time, demanded his son come over for a lecture every time he made the slightest mistake and you could see the miserable written all over this poor boy's face. It's kindergarten soccer you shit head, not the World Cup. He even refused to give the boy a drink until the coach said it was time for a break. At one point, the boy tripped and didn't get up. Thankfully, the father didn't yell at him, but when the boy came off the field he was crying and you could see he was just broken. He said he hurt his leg and didn't want to go back out there. The dad had killed a five year old's spirit. Don't be that person. Don't be that shitty parent who ruins even the most simplest of pleasures for your child. I guess this is my first experience with a long line of dealing with these kinds of people, and it just makes me sad. Repeat after me; It's.just.a.game.
More updates on whether or not Ron Weasley is actually British, and if Slumdog Millionaire ever gets to kick a ball in a few weeks. Til then, there's no I in team.. and there's no Draw Something for me.