Lacrosse Culture

Last night I attended a high school lacrosse game. I sat with some of my adult friends, which was fabulous because they go with me so I have someone to talk to, and listened to a pack of teenage girls behind me planning how they can marry certain boys on the lacrosse team. Here in Utah the teenagers don't actually want to have sex with each other, they want to get married. So instead of planning how to get into someone's pants, they plan on how to spend the rest of their miserable lives together. Interesting.

But I digress. My husband is the assistant coach for a high school lacrosse team that is ranked first in its division. It's good he's assistant because he has no head for the managing aspects required of a head coach. I am a good wife so I go and watch these games. I have sat in the freezing cold with no one talking to me for hours just to watch him yell at high school kids from across the field. I have gone to lacrosse banquets to support his involvement in this sport. I enjoy it. I enjoy watching him do something that he so clearly loves. It makes my heart happy that he is happy.

But sometimes I get annoyed at the lacrosse culture. Or, the culture of Utah lacrosse that has many many many stay at home moms whose entire lives are devoted to their children and they have nothing else to think about. I don't have too much in common with these women - not to say I judge them or think they made the wrong choice, it's just not a choice I would ever make - so I generally do a lot of nodding and smiling and kind of hoping maybe someone will say something interesting.

Last night a woman I have never seen says to me, "I hear congratulations are in order," I look at her blankly - I'm not sure who she is or why I should be congratulated - she follows up with "when are you due?" Ahhh, it has become clear, she is asking about the parasite. The parasite about which I have been very quiet given my own experience, even though I am sure this growth is doing fine. The parasite which currently is a medical condition - and I am one of those people who thinks you don't discuss private medical conditions with random people so only my dearest and nearest know about it. The parasite with whom this woman will never have an interaction. She somehow deems it her right to have access to our private life. I say, "August." She then proceeds to tell me how awful it will be to have a child in August, she having had 2000 children and all the best ones were born in January. I sit there and wait for some divine intervention to save me from this ridiculous onslaught of unsolicited advice, I mean, it's not like I chose August (although if I could, given my career, August is a pretty damn good month, but she wouldn't understand that as she does not have a career). I squirm, biting my tongue on the nasty wit that tends to rise to the occasion to protect myself against these crazy people.

Later I say to my husband, "some woman I never met told me congratulations are in order." He kind of looks at me and says "oh yeah, the head mom in charge found out (via a friend which is not a big deal, not like it's a military secret or something) and asked and I said we were keeping it quiet." Ahhh. Quiet means telling all of the women that this coach's wife has finally achieved what clearly is every woman's dream and now she is in the club and we can talk to her.

Where in tarnation is my can of whoop ass!!!!