There is no more room left in my head for sports. I've learned the rules of baseball, twice. Apparently the rules for Little League are different than the rules for Babe Ruth. So as a parent, a sport-parent, I feel like I've done my part.
With that being said, the Littlest Kid is playing flag football this fall.
I know nothing about football.
Going into last nights game, here's what I knew:
We were the red team. LK was #7....
Kid: Why are you clapping?
Me: He caught the ball.
Kid: Do you have any idea what's going on?
Me: He caught the ball!
Kid: Do you even know if it was an offensive play or defensive play?
Me: Nope. He caught the ball.
Kid: Please stop. You're going to hurt yourself.
Me: Can they pick up the ball of it hits the ground?
The Kid: *face palm*
The BF's Dad turns to me and says: Aren't they supposed to stop the clock on an incomplete pass?
Me: OMG! You're asking ME?
The Kid to the BF's Dad: Her head is going to explode if you keep asking her stuff like that.
The Kid to Me: Stick to the math nerd-girl.
Me: *sticks out tongue at Kid*
So anyway, we won, by a field goal or something.
Or maybe it was an extra point.
Whatever, we won.