I have acquired my first cricketing injury. In fact, this may be my first sporting injury (if you don’t count the battered ego I endured after landing squarely on my derriere during a game of twilight hockey many years ago*).
Anyways, back to the cricketing catastrophe. It all unfolded on a cold and rainy evening earlier this week.
In a bid to bolster my son’s fledgling sporting career I agreed to field while he sent some super-sonic deliveries across the lounge room to his dad.
I’m not sure exactly what happened next but I think a rogue bucket of Lego may have had something to do with it. Suffice to say, I crash tackled the sideboard and ended up in the bucket of Lego. Days later I’m still in pain. But I console myself with the knowledge that if we want to raise an opening batsmen, this is what it takes.
And I fully intend to take credit for his achievements at a future press conference. No pressure.
The same is true of my girls and their swimming. I cheer them along as they bust a gut from one end of the pool to the other, all the while thinking to myself “at last, all that money spent on swimming lessons is paying off”. And when they stand on an Olympic winner’s podium you can bet I’ll be there saying “that’s my kid”. Again, not much pressure.
Now, I don’t want to come across as one of those crazy (yes, I said it) goal oriented, outcome driven super-mums who lives vicariously through their children. But I am looking forward to the successes of my kids (whatever they may be) and the chance to say that I was there when it all began.
*Footnote: There was one upside to the whole twilight hockey incident – I managed to collide with the cutest guy in the competition – a story which became the subject of many late night conversations with my school friends. Ah, memories!