I really wanted to write this and publish it on Sunday, but my days got away from me and then I just got lazy. Also, I tried to add a couple of pictures, but for some reason I could not. It’s okay, though, because I was so shaky from the cold that they were totally blurry. Just imagine a bunch of hot soccer players lined up and you’ve got it. Anyway, here it is!
If you read my last post, you will know that I was going to a soccer (or football, for the rest of the world) game on Saturday. I am happy to announce that I actually did go through with it, and that it actually wasn’t quite as bad as I had thought it was going to be. Shocking, right?
I’m not sure if I have mentioned this before, but I really like to sleep. I mean, really, really like to sleep. When I was a teenager no one thought twice about the fact that I could sleep 10+ hours straight when I had nothing to do. Apparently this is normal for teens. Now that I am an adult, however, it is more frowned upon. But I really don’t care because it is one of my most favorite things to do.
Now, on the weekends is when I do most of my late sleeping (or Tuesday’s, which I have off). Tate usually wakes up anywhere from 8:30 to 10:30, apparently because he’s normal. Saturday was no different. He woke up around 9 and then started to wake me up around 3. Yes, I do mean in the afternoon. I found out later, though, that when he tried to wake me up I apparently asked him what time it was and what time the game started. When he told me it was 3 and the game started at 7:30, my response to him was, “then why are you waking me up now?” I have no recollection of this. I apologized anyway, though. I don’t doubt that I said it.
The plan was for us to meet at our friend’s house, the one who got us the tickets, to pregame. So we got ready and headed that way.
I don’t venture out of the house very often (my choice), so I never know what the weather is going to be. Why bother checking it if I’m not going to be in it, right? Well, I kind of wish that I had checked before the game so that I could have prepared myself a little better for what was coming. It rained the entire way to our friend’s house, and it was rather cold that day. Usually I am stuck sitting in the sun when I go to these games. I guess I complained enough or something, because that day I sat in the misting rain and cold.
I don’t own an umbrella. I figure it’s just too much hassle, getting it out and opening it, closing it while sitting in the car and trying not to break it while closing it between my half open door and the body of the car, and then having it drip all in my back floorboard. I’d rather just run through the rain for a minute. So, you can imagine that I have never even seen a poncho. Well, now I have.
Tate and I both had orange/red ponchos to wear while at the game. Not, I dunno, clear ones. Bright orange/red ones. Also, I would have liked to have seen myself trying to get it on. My head is rather large, and the neck of the poncho was rather small. What the weather couldn’t do to my hair, the poncho finished off. So now I’m really lookin’ rough. Oh, and Tate rocked his, of course.
When we walk into the baseball grounds (that’s where they had the field set up, I have no idea why), I start looking around. I don’t like crowds and I don’t like standing out in them. Well, there was definitely a crowd, and Tate and I were definitely the only people wearing bright orange/red ponchos. Instant anxiety. I take a cue from Tate and put on a confident air. It worked, because after a while I didn’t care anymore. And when we took our (wet) seats, we didn’t get our asses wet like everyone else. Crowd: 0, Ponchos: 1.
The game was really good. A lot of close calls and slide tackles on the wet grass made for an entertaining show. Our team won in the end, 1-0, and the crowd went crazy. There was much celebration as everyone screamed and clapped and jumped around. I have to say, I was pretty damn excited, myself. I guess it’s contagious? Who knows.
After the game, Tate and I were hungry, so we went to find our group to see what they were doing. Luckily for us, we drove separately, because they had no idea what they wanted, and we had already made our decision. There is a restaurant in our town that only has two locations; one downtown and one at the beach, neither of which are very close to us. So, when we are nearby one we always go because it is seriously the best restaurant in the city. It’s called Burrito Gallery, and it’s amazing. Always fresh, and always delicious.
So, when we say that’s where we are going, the other girls in the group that we came with went “ehh…” and I was shocked! I asked Tate later; “who, after hearing ‘wanna go to Burrito Gallery?’ says ‘ehh…’? How dare they!” I take my food seriously, apparently. Anyway, it didn’t matter, because that’s where Tate and I ended up.
As we were sitting and eating, Tate asked me if it was as bad as I thought, and if I would want to go to more games, if we found new people to go with or just went by ourselves. My response to him was rather selfish, I must admit. I said something along the lines of “I dunno. I’ll think about it, I guess.” and kept eating. Then he said something that made me realize how much of an asshole I was:
“Well, I had a great time.”
Right then, it hit me. I was being super selfish and a terrible wife. This was something that Tate really loved to do, wanted to do, and who did he want with him? Not a friend or anyone else, he wanted me; his wife. Because he likes me, as well as loves me, and he wants me to share his good time with him. And how did I respond to him? Cold and distant. Flippant, not caring about what he wanted. I felt terrible. So, I made a resolution.
If it makes him happy, then I will do it with a smile on my face. I can stand to spend a couple of hours doing what he wants to do. It won’t kill me, but it will make our relationship so much better.
This was a lesson learned, and in the end, I couldn’t be happier that I went. I guess the moral to the story is to keep your spouse’s happiness in mind. If that means stepping out of your comfort zone every once in a while, so be it.