Husbands become child-like in instances such as:
- When they are sick
- When you have to give detailed, step-by-step instructions on just exactly what it is you want done with the ____________ (laundry, garbage, dishes, dinner - you get the picture)
- When you have to remind them to clean their room before they can continue playing video games
- When you have to remind them that grown-ups eat their vegetables to set a good example for the *real* children
- When they are sick...
- When they think they might be getting sick
- When they take apart electronics with no regard for their actual ability to fix them - or just put them back together
- You have to sign their permission slip to participate in a new activity (yes, this really happened)
I'm sure you could help me add to this list; I'd love to hear more!
Well ladies and gentlemen, I've added a 4th "child" and his activities to the schedule; husband will be playing football with the Midwest Rampage this spring. He's very excited, and to be honest (don't tell him), I am too. However, I'm less than excited about adding another set of practices, games, and travel into the mix of our already busy lives.
I was incredibly against this at first, for four huge reasons:
- Injury - duh.
- Money - start-up costs, gear, travel, food; I'm willing to make sacrifices for my children and their activities, but not super excited about these additional expenses
- Time - this should probably be number one. We have three kids. That in itself is time consuming. But when you have gymnastics 3-4 times per week, t-ball games for at least one kid (maybe two, but that's for another post), work trips, family vacations, gymnastics camp, and now we're adding football? Goodbye summer!
- Softball - husband also plays softball in the summer, and I love those people - I don't want to miss out on a great set of friends because we're switching sports
Some pretty valid concerns, I think.
So it's less than a week until the first practice and I'm ready to say no. I'm not going to sign the permission slip.
But then he says, "All I've wanted for the last ten years is the chance to play just one more game." And then images of Michael Jordan and Brett Favre come swirling into your head, and he looks all sad, and you realize that guys look cute in football pants, and you love football, and generally miss it during the spring and summer, so why were you saying no in the first place?
Crap. So with a few caveats that 1) he keeps playing softball, 2) I get a t-shirt, and 3) If he gets hurt I will not listen to whining, I signed his permission slip, and jumped on board.
So now (again, don't tell husband, because I'm planning on banking a few "good wife" points for letting him do this) I'm super excited. I wonder if juice boxes and string cheese are still an appropriate post-game snack... ;)