So, the boy hasn’t played football.
Except in 8th grade, when he played a few games, blew out his knee, and we spent the evening waiting for x-rays in the emergency room.
Now he’s a junior in high school. And he’s about 2 feet taller and much bigger. And he’s playing again. (He’s number 88).
And he’s wearing things like a helmet…and pads.
You know, to keep him from getting things like concussions, or broken bones?
Because things are happening like this..
And heaven help me…this!
So about the second quarter, I saw him go down, and then start limping.
Please note the black ankle brace on the right ankle from basketball season. Note also that there is just a sock on the left ankle.
Now he tries to walk it off. His friend TJ (who isn’t dressed as he’s apparently injured!) asks him something like “Dude, are you okay?”
Which causes Mr. Moustache, the trainer to notice and take charge.
Thank you Mr. Mustache. I know you’ll take care of my boy. You’ll make him sit down and stop walking on it. You’ll be the Mom role when I can’t.
And then pretty soon, off they go to the training room.
And Mom sits and waits in the bleachers. Will we be going to the emergency room again? Is it sprained? Or gasp! Broken? Is he okay?
Before I know it…he’s back.
And in the game. This time with a mismatched white-taped ankle wrap.
I have some serious issues with Mr. Mustache.
And the game goes on…
Right until the final handshake.
Seriously, how do Moms deal with this all the time?
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