The Cold October Rain

When it rains in Indiana in October, my preferred spot is snuggled up under a blanket, maybe watching the rain through the living room window while I move between newspaper, iPad, book and crossword puzzle. I'll have a drink, maybe a snack. Ooh. And a fire. A crackly fire in the fireplace tended by my husband who checks on the drink and snack supply from time to time. Maybe he'll rub my feet, too. Maybe switch out the iced tea for a nice cocktail...And country music.

Ah. Glorious.

Today, however, I spent the better part of the downpour perched on an aluminum bleacher watching the first half of the 7th and 8th grade Christ the King Tigers football game. It was approximately 75 degrees below zero. 

A few of the girls had rain ponchos. Ali had her rain coat. Some resorted to trash bags, supplied by a mom who keeps a roll in her car. (She has boys.)  I had a strip of plastic mat and a cushion to shield my butt from the bare metal; a raincoat and an umbrella. So it wasn't like I was totally unsheltered. But I was reminded that I'm strickly a fair weather, outdoor football fan. 

I can't imagine sitting through one of those blizzard-stricken football games. Or playing/cheering at one. I guess the players and cheerleaders actually move around, but geeze. I'm totally putting this in the pile of "Things I Did for You" to pull out when I'm old and alone and need Alison to push my wheelchair or grind up my food.

The boys were behind 8-0 at the half. The cheer coach had decided the girls would get to do their half-time dance but then would get to go home. This was welcome news to most of the girls, but Alison was already planning an early exit because she had a basketball game of her own to get too.

She'd brought her basketball uniform and shoes, but had brough the bag to field because it also contained her pom poms and other stuff. I should have been smart enough to get the bag to shelter when the rain started, but I was more focused on keeping myself from melting like the Wicked WItch in Oz.

By the time Jeff arrived -- he'd played basketball that morning -- we discovered the wet things. He took them home and tossed them in the dryer. I followed with Ali soon after the dance. We poured some hot soup down her, too, and headed back to the school.

The basketball team, sadly, fared no better than the boys. We got home; Ali headed to the shower and I headed to the gym to work off a little of the Bunco madness from the night before. 

What I gained in conservative drinking Saturday, I lost to chocolate chip cookies, Ruffles potato chips and french onion dip. (Lynda is evil and knows my weaknesses.)

It's still pretty cold out there, but I have no reason to be out in it. Peyton Manning is killing my fantasy football score. The couch is calling my name. I wonder if I can talk Jeff into a fire....