Game 3

OK - so that other post, that football post...that post was, like, four hours ago.

And the kids came home and I fed them hotdogs and we left and I brought bug spray for the coaches - but I was late, so the cheerleaders got it.

And the sky darkened.

And it started to sprinkle. And the tens of people in the stands (on a night threatening rain, on a Thursday night because of high holy days tomorrow, on waterlogged fields.. many just don't come out) huddled closer and brought out umbrellas.

Except I had none. Because I am That Kind of Mom.

And Annabeth stood with the cheerleaders and cheered. And Sebastian ran around with some kids. And Patrick huddled close and asked loud questions, "can they strangle each other in football? Why is that target on the side? What do they get when they finally hit the target?"

And it rained more.

And it became a soaking rain. So I gave Mike-my-husband's-colleague back his umbrella (Mike was in full foul weather gear. AND had the umbrella.) And I gathered up Patrick. And I gathered up Annabeth. And...

...Sebastian was nowhere.

It was as if, in this small stadium, he had *poof* disappeared.

And I wandered and it rained and it poured and it was buckets of rain from the sky and I was, quite literally, soaked.

My two I had huddled under awnings with Beth and Sarah, also colleagues of my husbands, and I looked.

And my looking got frantic and I got wetter. And the there was nothing left to absorb it, so the water rolled off me in rivulets and rivers. And I yelled a little.

And the headmaster's wife Martha looked. And Mike-the-upper-school-head called out and offered to help, too.

And I got a little frantic.

And two facilities guys offered to help.

And then - he was found.

On the far far edge of the dark parking lot in the pouring rain. After 35 minutes of frantic looking. Where he shouldn't have been, out beyond the lights.

And he was chasing a girl. The blue soaked to black and the hair slicked dark. And he was laughing. With other boys and girls (in appropriate weather gear). Chasing. Tossing a ball. Laughing.

And then, whining.

"Really, Mom? I can't stay? Why can't we stay?"

We are cold. We are wet. We are tired. I yelled. I cried a little bitty bit. Maybe out of frustration. Maybe, for a second, I was actually scared.

We are in hot baths now.

And we are also, clearly, part of some sort of community. And that, is in fact, what it's about.

In two weeks is the next home game. I think I'll try again then to figure out the football part.