Oh no, tomorrow is Saturday, and it's the last home match of the season, so I'm duty bound to stand watching thirty boys running around chasing an odd-shaped ball for an hour.
Not that I'm not interested.
Not that I'm not fearsomely proud of the Boy being in the first fifteen (I never had the drive, skill, enthusiasm and determination, let alone the motivation).
Not that I won't be cheering him and the rest of the team on.
No. It's just that it's bloody wet and freezing out there.
Still, Bancrofts is renowned for putting on the best post-match food.
And yes, I'm tired, selfish and grumpy today.
Aawh, have some sympathy/empathy for on Sunday morning I will be doing exactly the same thing with The Beautiful Son and I've been poorly today, so it's fairly similar chez auntiegwen x
ReplyDeleteAt least he will be doing something interesting and worthwhile.....I will no doubt be standing in the cold and wet while my boys play in a cold sandpit.
ReplyDeleteCould be worse - he might be in a rock band and you'd have to do the gigs. Actually...
ReplyDeletehere in France it is definitely rugby that gets the blood up. Football they like, but for real passion it has to be the odd shaped ball.
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