Little League Politics

Little League. That bastion of Americana. What could be more idyllic than watching kids suit up and take the field for America's favorite pastime? Yeah - right. See - my daughter is an awesome player. Always has been. She's a natural, and can play pretty much any position on the field. And she's a fairly good sport. She's not pals with any of her teammates, but she's always encouraging to all of them. She's made the All Star team every year she's been eligible. So, when my daughter gets benched for half of every game so some spiteful little bitch, who refuses to play any position on the field except for the one she wants (which, naturally, is also my daughter's normal position), I get a little irate. And, when the majority of the infield is made up of the coach's team, and our team is benched and/or outfield, I get downright pissed. So - I may have asked the coach if my daughter should even bother showing up for tonight's game. 👿 I'm just so tired of Daddy Ball. I've been dealing with it for 9 years. They all praise my daughter, tell me how awesome she is, they all want her on their team . . . until it's time for the glory. Then my kid is shuffled to the background, while their children, or their children's friends, get all the prime positions, in hopes the local paper will give them a mention. It should be noted, however, that the paper still mentioned my daughter and her 'relegated to the bench for half the game' teammate, who both tripled on their first at-bat. Both girls also got the most home runs during regular season. So, I have given my daughter permission to get mouthy. Pretty sure it won't be tolerated from her. We'll see what happens at tonight's game.

Someone's favorite

Have you ever just wanted to be someone's favorite, and realized that you never ever will be? I have a favorite teacher. To me, I idolize her. I had the most fun in her class. She taught me so much. Her favorite? One of my best friends. The one who travels the world, reporting on the travesties. The things we should all care about. I love my husband. His perfect woman? His high school sweetheart. He has a "connection" with her. He can feel when she needs a friend. And that's all he is. Promise. My children are my everything. But I'm not the "cool" mom. I want to know where they are, where they'll be, what's going on. They hate me and wish I would leave them alone.