As a hockey mom, after what - four years? Is that how long AJ's been playing? - I figure I've got a pretty good idea of how this all works. No, I still don't know recognize what icing is until I hear the whistle blow and see dads slapping their foreheads in frustration. But the intense schedule, the freezing cold Saturday morning games in January and February, the shock to the system of going from 80 degrees outside into chilly indoor arena temperatures in July - I've been there, done that.
Even the challenge of coordinating work schedules with Jeff so that one of us could get AJ to the Bulldog hockey camp and the other would pick him up - we know the drill.
But something new happened today. Something I've joked about with fellow moms of Mite 1 and Mite 2 players. Something I didn't see coming until long after practice had ended.
As mentioned, AJ is skating in a hockey camp this week that features players and coaches from the UMD Bulldogs. To say he's excited to be on the same ice as these players he so idolizes is an understatement. (Even if he can't remember their names. I recognized a few from a Skate With the Bulldogs event we went to last winter - too bad I didn't figure out their names back then, either.)
The kids were divided into small groups that rotated through different stations, each focusing on a different skill. I showed up just in time to see AJ practice some fancy footwork skating/high stepping over a bunch of hockey sticks.
For the grand finale, the kids lined up for some sort of bombardment game.
AJ and his fellow Esko team mate, Earo, immediately headed for the far side of the rink. Clearly, they've played this game before. Because when the whistle blew and all the kids started racing toward the other end of the rink while the Bulldog players threw gloves at them, AJ and Earo skated under the radar and reached the other side safely. (In the below photo, AJ's approaching the red line on the far side of the rink.)
Yes, these two knew what they were doing. With some luck and a few good dodges, AJ was third to last to get hit. He was pretty proud.
And then practice was over and it was back to the reality of being an eight year old. After his morning of glory skating with "real Bulldogs", I dropped AJ off. At daycare.
When I got home from work tonight, I pulled AJ's hockey bag out of the trunk of my car. And that's when I was struck with a new reality that comes with being a hockey mom. A new reality that's only going to get much, much worse as he gets older. A very stinky reality.
Because when I pulled out his still-damp gear, which had been sitting in my car all day in 80-degree temps with high humidity, it smelled. Really, really bad.
I'm trying to think of a clever way to end this. But I'm coming up empty.
Stinky gear is now draped across my kitchen table and chairs. And it's only going to get worse.
*****
On a brighter, unrelated note, I am very happy to announce that we have had no fish casualties in the last 24 hours. The three remaining goldfish are still swimming, but now their bowl is filled with fresh, clean water. (Though the bowl is sitting on the same kitchen table as AJ's hockey gear.) Hopefully they won't be overcome by the smell.
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