Cold Front

Today was the first football game of the season for LHS.  

On the news this morning there was a lot of talk about the cold front moving in.  Fifteen degrees colder than yesterday.  I was grateful for the sweater I wore to work as I stood out at recess and witnessed children scantily dressed for 90+ temps, shivering away.  

Just keep running, keep on running, don't stop running.

And when I met my friend Steph for lunch, we selected to stay inside due to the chill in the air.  I had told Lex this morning that she better be sure and take her warm-ups to the game.  If one cheerleader doesn't have them, none of them can wear them.  She would hate to be the reason they all froze to death.  She couldn't find her warm-up pants before school, so once I arrived home, I searched her closet (they were hanging right where they were supposed to be, new tags still attached), and ran to the school to put them in her car so she could get to the game on time.  Then I came home to change.

I put on my jeans.  The ones that give me a major muffin-top.  (I'll have to share the story of the purchase someday... but I'm warning you, it's lengthy.)  It wouldn't matter, since I would for sure be wearing my Titan hoodie to camouflage the muffin.  I had one of those skin-hugging Shade shirts underneath.  Layers are good in cool weather, you know.  Should I bring my blanket? I wondered.  Since the game would most likely be over before dusk, I decided to risk it and leave it home.  I felt ready.  Prepared.  Some of those spectators may end up like those chilled Kindies from earlier in the day.  Shivering.  Underdressed.  Wishing for warmth.  But not me.  I've spent too many football games too hot or too cold.  I've learned from my mistakes.  I patted myself on the back for remembering a water bottle, too.

Once we were seated in the stadium, facing the oh-so-slowly setting sun on heat-conducting light-reflecting metal bleachers, I realized that the forecasted cold front had not arrived.  It was hot.  My friend Rebecca said she felt like a lizard, baking on a rock.  And she didn't have a hoodie on.  Or dark muffin-topping jeans.  And unless I wanted to reveal the muffin to the world, that hoodie needed to stay on.  Which it did.  Needless to say, I was overdressed for the second time in a week.

But it didn't hold me back from cheering those Titans on.  I told Lex after the game that only a few students turned around to see who was sharing the school spirit so loudly.  And this is what her dad was doing:

Honestly, we try to be as embarrassing as possible.  Which also means we had to take some pictures.

And just to clarify, these are NOT their cheer uniforms.  After we were seated at the game, a lady came and sat in the row just down and over from me.  I heard her say, "Those sure aren't very cute cheer uniforms."  Of course I had to set her straight (as politely as possibly), so I told her they were really just one of their practice outfits.  I bet she hated that I heard her.  And that she happened to be sitting in a throng of cheer parents.  Maybe she was thinking something like, "Yeah, and you're so overdressed."