The time of the year is upon us. Prepare to don your trainers and grip your fists – Sports Day is coming.
No matter who you are, how cool calm and collected your personality is, once your offspring steps onto the track you turn into a mom-ager and MY KID MUST WIN slaps you in the face. Now, for the record, I genuinely do not care if Charlie comes last next week when he (the most uncoordinated clumsy child ever) lines up with his egg and spoon at the starting line, but as soon as I see him walking towards that white line a surge of scariness hits me and the following runs through my head in the 60 seconds before the whistle goes and off they tootle
- What if he trips over?
- What if someone sabotages his race and knocks his egg flying?
- Which kid looks like they’ll be a lane strayer again risking number 1 and 2 happening?
- Will he throw a strop if he loses?
- Why has he got his tshirt on backwards?
- Why is *so and so* in the race – you know that kid wins EVERYTHING
- Is my camera ready to capture his moment of glory?
- WHY ISN’T HE LISTENING?
And with that, off they go. 15 seconds where your heart is in your mouth as people cheer them on (depending on what colour house they are in obvs) and suddenly you have flashbacks of holding their hands and letting them go as they take their first steps and now here they are, racing down the track all in the name of a certificate. Stuff the 100m at the Olympics is the egg and spoon race is the event of the year.
Since starting football, Charlie has become incredibly competitive so I am somewhat dreading if he doesn’t come first. I desperately try to point out the “it’s the taking part that matters” mantra to him but he ain’t listening – he wants the gold!
I would say I’m pretty laid back about it all, but last year was Charlie’s first “proper” sports day and my GOD I was speechless at the competitiveness of the PARENTS. Last year I was treated to Mom’s rocking up in sports gear to take part in the Parent’s race – they obviously were THAT desperate for a box of chocolates. One of the Mom’s also ripped over and landed splat on their face to which me and my sister struggled not to giggle at as she was infuriated that she hadn’t won!
But they best was without a shadow of doubt when a parent demanded a recount.
She had videoed the race and was indignant that her son was placed 3rd not 2nd – so much so SHE REPLAYED THE VIDEO TO THE TEACHER. Yes ladies and gentlemen, that is what sport’s day turns you into. You can be a regular run of the mill Mom in the morning but by afternoon you become a bonafide bloodthirsty glory hunter who will do anything to make sure your kid is placed in the top 3. Stuff your everyone’s a winner line – this is war, and you will take no prisoners.
So make sure you pack your trainers, don the war paint and sports wear of your kids house colours (ours is yellow fyi) and of course video cameras – and prepare to battle!