My Life, chapter 3
Saturday, my favorite day of the week! I have a soccer game today. Our team is playing against another team from a neighboring school. We've never played them before, but from what I hear they're really good and undefeated. Great! That was sarcastic.
Anyway, since my dad is home he says he wants to go. I couldn't believe it, he really wanted to go. He seemed all excited and asked what time it was and where it was. I told him the necessary information. He would really be there for me this time, I just knew it. It may seem odd that I make such a big deal out of a regular soccer game, but this is the first one he was going to. To me, it was a big deal.
When I left the kitchen, after telling my father about the game today and after he told me he was going to come, my mother went in to speak with him. My mother knew all to well about my father's habits of forgetting and promising something he wouldn't keep. She didn't trust him in other words. "Billie Joe, if you happen to miss this game after you've promised him you'll regret it," she said to him in a whisper. I peered into the kitchen, spying on my parents having a 'private' conversation. I knew she was threatening him, but she had to, if she didn't he probably wouldn't even hear her.
"I will Adie. I am going to his game. I really want to see him play. I'm home now and I have time for that sort of stuff. I know in the past I have broken my promises to you and the boys, but I won't ever again," he said back to her in a whisper. He moved over to where she was, she was cleaning the counters. He turned her around and held her close to him. I stopped watching them after that, I don't need to see all that mushy crap. All I needed to know was that my dad was coming to my soccer game. And he was!
The game started at 12:00pm. My mom was there in the bleachers along side the field sitting with other moms and dads. I looked all around her, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was just late. Traffic jam. A long red light. I convinced myself of this until halftime, which was an hour into the game. My dad wasn't coming. He forgot, or he didn't feel like it, but he seemed so excited before. Oh no, what if he got in an accident or if there was some kind of emergency? He couldn't have really forgotten, could he have?
The game was over, we had won. I didn't even feel happy about it. We had defeated one of the toughest teams in our area, now we were the undefeated ones. The final score was eighteen to twelve, I had scored four of our goals. My teammates and I were all good friends, we got along and played well together. Our team played fair, we were known for that. I said goodbye to the guys after our coach congratulated us and gave us an encouraging speech. I walked over to my mom and with my head hung low.
"Hey," she said excited, trying to act as if nothing was missing, "you guys did great!" I looked up at her, she saw the hurt in my eyes. I faked a smile and tried to act as if I wasn't upset or angry. Nothing was wrong. I pleaded with myself to believe this. She knew, she had to have known. My mom knew me inside out, she could practically read my mind. She looked to the ground, "I'm sure your father has a really good reason, Joe," she said sympathetically. I shrugged and walked past her towards the car. She followed me.
She didn't go home right away, she stopped at my favorite fast food restaurant, Taco Bell. My mom knew she had to do something to lighten my mood. My mother wasn't only my mother, she was one of my best friends. She was always there for me no matter what. She always wanted to make sure I was happy. She spoiled me rotten, sometimes I hated that. But now I realized she wasn't trying to spoil me, she was trying to fill in for my dad. She was taking on his job as a father, she gave me good advice, she encouraged me to follow my heart, and she was constantly there to convince me my father loved me. But who was there to convince her my father loved her?
Anyway, since my dad is home he says he wants to go. I couldn't believe it, he really wanted to go. He seemed all excited and asked what time it was and where it was. I told him the necessary information. He would really be there for me this time, I just knew it. It may seem odd that I make such a big deal out of a regular soccer game, but this is the first one he was going to. To me, it was a big deal.
When I left the kitchen, after telling my father about the game today and after he told me he was going to come, my mother went in to speak with him. My mother knew all to well about my father's habits of forgetting and promising something he wouldn't keep. She didn't trust him in other words. "Billie Joe, if you happen to miss this game after you've promised him you'll regret it," she said to him in a whisper. I peered into the kitchen, spying on my parents having a 'private' conversation. I knew she was threatening him, but she had to, if she didn't he probably wouldn't even hear her.
"I will Adie. I am going to his game. I really want to see him play. I'm home now and I have time for that sort of stuff. I know in the past I have broken my promises to you and the boys, but I won't ever again," he said back to her in a whisper. He moved over to where she was, she was cleaning the counters. He turned her around and held her close to him. I stopped watching them after that, I don't need to see all that mushy crap. All I needed to know was that my dad was coming to my soccer game. And he was!
The game started at 12:00pm. My mom was there in the bleachers along side the field sitting with other moms and dads. I looked all around her, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was just late. Traffic jam. A long red light. I convinced myself of this until halftime, which was an hour into the game. My dad wasn't coming. He forgot, or he didn't feel like it, but he seemed so excited before. Oh no, what if he got in an accident or if there was some kind of emergency? He couldn't have really forgotten, could he have?
The game was over, we had won. I didn't even feel happy about it. We had defeated one of the toughest teams in our area, now we were the undefeated ones. The final score was eighteen to twelve, I had scored four of our goals. My teammates and I were all good friends, we got along and played well together. Our team played fair, we were known for that. I said goodbye to the guys after our coach congratulated us and gave us an encouraging speech. I walked over to my mom and with my head hung low.
"Hey," she said excited, trying to act as if nothing was missing, "you guys did great!" I looked up at her, she saw the hurt in my eyes. I faked a smile and tried to act as if I wasn't upset or angry. Nothing was wrong. I pleaded with myself to believe this. She knew, she had to have known. My mom knew me inside out, she could practically read my mind. She looked to the ground, "I'm sure your father has a really good reason, Joe," she said sympathetically. I shrugged and walked past her towards the car. She followed me.
She didn't go home right away, she stopped at my favorite fast food restaurant, Taco Bell. My mom knew she had to do something to lighten my mood. My mother wasn't only my mother, she was one of my best friends. She was always there for me no matter what. She always wanted to make sure I was happy. She spoiled me rotten, sometimes I hated that. But now I realized she wasn't trying to spoil me, she was trying to fill in for my dad. She was taking on his job as a father, she gave me good advice, she encouraged me to follow my heart, and she was constantly there to convince me my father loved me. But who was there to convince her my father loved her?
