With daily runs to the hospital I am learning a new rhythm of balancing work, school obligations and the hospital. (Which if you are wondering my mother-in-law is being moved as I type to an ICU step-down unit.) So tonight I must send King Ralph to be with his mom alone because I am taking to the field as a temporary member of the marching band's color guard--it's the first "Parents Take the Field" night.
I walk onto the field to hear several "Momma Avery"'s echoing. Oh to be popular amongst the band's teen crowd. And really, I should have stopped there! The reason I was always picked last in gym class came haunting back as I tried to stand properly at attention. To hold that darn flag just the right amount off the ground and pump it into the air on the third hissing sound coming from the drum major's direction of calling everyone to attention. The forward march of eight steps was easier than that dam backwards march of sixteen steps, which started with me trying to keep my balance as I bopped up and down, knees only not body to the counting of sixteen. Forget the "stick it" on the yard line on the last step, that was a lost cause with a large dose of humor in its execution. It doesn't take one daughter to teach me marching skills it also took two of M's parentless buddies--one trumpeter and clarinetist--to get this marching band reject to understand what looks so much better (not easier) from the stands. I never doubted for a second the level of difficulty marching band and color guard is...it's the student body that likes to rip on the band kids that should have been out there trying to perfect those fundamental skills in 20 minutes.
The question was posed "mom what if I played the bass drum?", to which I replied "I wouldn't have shown." Hehehe. I would have though because I am my children's cheerleader. I'm just thankful I only have to hold a flag pole.
It was fun. I might have enjoyed King Ralph in the role better. Maybe next year. Just maybe.