DRIVING TO THE FOOTBALL GAME

Remind me, is a rain poncho cool when you're in high school?


Atticus is a freshman this year and we are horrified to find ourselves re-living our high school years vicariously. Last Friday he wanted to go to the football game. He was meeting some friends there so he needed a ride. As we drove, Jeff cheerfully recalled his years of playing on the old gridiron, and I talked about being in the marching band as we shared a tiny bit of the excitement of a Friday night football game. It started raining and this was cause for alarm for Jeff. The following conversation ensued:

Jeff: Hey it's raining, do you want to take one of my umbrellas?
Atticus: (can't respond he's laughing so hard)
Me: Good Lord! Would you have taken an umbrella to a football game?
Jeff: (Catching himself) Oh, right, no one has an umbrella. Well, do you want me to stop at Walgreens and we'll get a rain poncho?
Me: (Laughing too hard to speak)
Atticus: Dad! A rain poncho?
Jeff: (Thinking he's used the wrong word) Oh, you know a slicker.
(Atticus and me, now doubled over laughing)
Atticus: Dad, I'm pretty sure no one has worn a slicker since 1952.
Me: You might as well offer him some galoshes or rubbers.
Jeff: Okay, okay
Me: So, you're meeting some friends in the marching band?
Atticus: Yeah. They said the band parents put up caution tape around the band so the non-bandies can't try to mingle with them.
Jeff: Oh, yeah, that's a real concern. People rushing the marching band.
Me: Caution tape? Like it says "caution, band nerds"?
Atticus: I have no idea what those crazy parents are worried about. But I'll just sit on one side of the tape and Joanne will be on the other.

Joanne?

Jeff: Okay,where should I drop you?
Atticus: Here's good. (opens door as it begins to rain harder)

We watch as he lopes off into the rainy night, coatless, outlined by the giant lights of the football field. Two girls wearing not enough clothing with their lovely lady humps hanging out walk past the car and I resist the urge to shout "Stay away from my little boy you whores!"

We drive off, heading to our favorite restaurant for a martini and a steak. We'll valet park and stay nice and dry while Atticus gets soaked in the stands watching a game he doesn't really care for and eating a hotdog sitting next to Joanne with caution tape between them.

It's no contest: he'll have a hell of a lot more fun than we will.