Embarrassed Parent Syndrome

Every Tuesday, Chase and I have made a habit of cheering Cory on at his softball league.  You know, it’s one of those “old man” leagues where almost everyone is out of shape, except for that one token guy who is still trying to live out his high school fantasy of being the star player.  

Chase’s weekly ritual is to pick out a tub of cotton candy from the concession stands.  Every week he pulls out his quarters from his pockets with his sticky, sweaty fingers (that usually have pocket lint stuck to them) and slides them across the metal counter to the concession worker.  Chase then hops down from the counter and makes his way over to Cory’s team.  He toddles up and down the bench asking every player one by one if they want a piece of his “special, special, treat”.  He does this endlessly until someone gives in and takes a handful.  Chase gets a big grin on his face and continues on to the next player.  

Well last night, all of the players were on the field, but one. This teammate was running late.  He came in five minutes after the game started with his tennis shoes and glove in hand. As the player scurried to put his softball shoes on, Chase skipped up to him, with his cotton candy in hand and asks him if he would like a bite of his cotton candy.  The player said, “No, I’m running late, I have to hurry and get on the field.”  Without missing a beat, Chase gets an annoyed look on his face and responds to him with a, “Suck it up, Sally.”  The player looked at me, as if to verify what Chase said- and being the proud mom that I am- I just shrugged my shoulders and put my head down, avoiding all eye contact.  

As a parent, you wait so long for your children to be able to talk, and once they do, you want them to be mute.  I think I am developing a mean case of “Embarrassed Parent Syndrome.”