since we're on the subject of my mother, here's a story:

i was born with a weird condition that makes it that i don't have depth perception. when i look at things, they all lay on the same plane, which made me pretty useless at sports when i was a kid. i liked to play, but i just couldn't get the timing right in trying to hit a baseball or throwing a football. the only sport that i seemed to excel at was soccer. all i had to do was run and kick. my parents joined me up to the local soccer league and the games were usually held at my grade school's soccer field on saturdays. that meant the school was locked up. it also meant there were no bathrooms. during one game, i had to go to the bathroom. the type you sit down for. fortunately, there were some dense wooded areas closeby and you could run back there, do your business and get back in the game. so i ran back there, pulled down my shots and undies and did like the bears do. in my rush, i didn't quite pull my shorts all the way down and the position of my squat was a bit off so all of my saturday morning breakfast fell into/onto my shorts. now i was stuck. do i go back to the field and die of embarassment or stay in the woods and die of exposure? so i did what any kid would do. i started to cry. my mom, with her bionic woman hearing soon came into the woods and found me. she let me wear her coat (that came down to my knees) and told me the direction to go back towards the car without having to go by the soccer field. she then went and told the coach i was sick to my stomach and needed to go home. that was really cool and though it's a nasty situation, i always think fondly about how my mom covered for me.

10/05/2000 12:46:00 PM | link me
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