Friday, May 27, 2011

No Cutesy

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Canucks have not been taking a lot of shots in their series of Stanley Cup playoff games. This bothers Steve no end. As the sport-playing one in our family, I’ve endeavoured to explain to him that sometimes it is about quality of shots, not quantity, and the Sedins are just taking their time setting things up to be perfect. He ignores me, of course, and yells a lot at the TV. “Stop passing so much! Don’t be so cutesy! Just shoot already!”

The kids have picked up on all of this. We’re eating dinner in front of the TV a lot these days, watching games, and they are trying their best to cheer on our team. They just don’t know exactly how to cheer. Sometimes they say “Go Canucks Go!”, which is perfect. But the other night, deep into double overtime in game five, Hannah obsessively chanted “No cutesy, no cutesy, no cutesy, no cutesy,” for the better part of five full minutes. Since the Canucks success depends largely on my ability to concentrate on the TV screen (well, in addition to the players efforts, I suppose), I finally couldn’t take it anymore and I snapped. “Hannah! Enough! Please be quiet!” After the game, when I could exhale again, I remembered some of their other attempts at sports cheering, and I felt terrible for barking at her.

Let me explain: even though I play a lot of team sports, my family is not one of those sporty families. My kids don’t come to my games very often, and when they do, they never want to run or throw the ball around on the sidelines at my slo-pitch games-- instead, when they were younger, Steve would set up their folding chairs behind the backstop and read aloud to them. (All the catchers thought it was adorable, and when we were reading Harry Potter, I think some of them even listened in.) Once, when they were probably 4 and 6, we must have forgotten our novel, because instead, they sat there in their chairs and cheered me on. Instead of “Go Mom Go!”, or something of that ilk, the kids tried to think of something nice to say about me and ended up chanting “Skin Like Silk! Skin Like Silk!” I was giggling so much I could barely hold the bat. (Either that or my silky skin made it too slippery to hang on to the damn thing.)

So to make amends after the Canucks game chastising, I asked the girls a question. “How would you cheer me on, if you were watching me play soccer?”

“Uh, I guess ‘Go Mom Go’?”

Sigh. “That’s it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to yell too much Mom, since I wouldn’t want you to push yourself too hard. You’ve got to be careful with those knees.”

Oh dear. When did they get so responsible and mature? I need them to be more cutesy. What am I doing wrong?

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