Sister Pister's high school's homecoming football game was on Friday night. When I arrived at the game, before I even opened my car door, Momma Debi came to my window and said, "She blew out her knee in volleyball practice. The trainer put her up on a table by the sidelines and is checking it out."
Isn't that some luck? Up for homecoming queen and blow your knee out the night of coronation. Uffda. And I have heard tearing the MCL is painful so I fully expected Sister Pister to be in a rather messy state of pain, disappointment, and worry...but I came around the stands and saw her on a table with a plate of food and a huge smile across her face.
A good attitude. It really does go a long way. Plus a brownie. Sometimes a brownie just helps.
Friends have a way lifting spirits too. Sister Pister said two of the boys from her class carried her to the back of a pickup after the game so she could go to Jordyn's house to get ready for the football game. And then Jordyn helped her put her pants on over her volleyball spandex. That's being a forever friend.
Sister Pister's table perch was inside the line that separates the fans from the players but I stood there with her anyway. It seemed like more than ever, my sister needed me to be pingy and make her laugh. So, I started taking pictures like I always do when one of the refs came up to me, put his arm around me, and started to say something. I figured I was in trouble for being in the "player zone" so I frantically interrupted him, "I'm sorry if I'm in the way but this is my sister and I want to take some pictures and I and I and I'm sorry."
His reply with his arm still around me, "You're fine."
Glad we got that straight.
He went back to the huddle of other refs and I stood there with my camera ready because I figured at some point they would stand in a straight line. It didn't happen.
So my friend, who also operates on the loud side of life, and I asked them to line it up. They listened. It really did make for a better picture.
During the national anthem and the starting line-ups, I could not help but reminisce about the days when I was a Bomber and Friday night football games were king and there wasn't anything better than wearing as much purple and gold as humanly possible just to stand in the freezing cold to watch the boys play.
During that time of remembering my teenage years, I was once again reminded that I am getting older because really the whole time the first half of the game was going on, all I could focus on was how cold I was. Freezing. It was freezing. So cold my nose was red.
Shiny objects. They do it for me every time. Every time.
For a minute, I decided I should leave the land of shiny objects to try and pay attention to the game.
That didn't last long.
Finally, it was half time and the queen and king candidates prepared for their walk across the field. Sister Pister prepped herself in Crutches 101. I crossed my fingers she wouldn't trip in the grass. We always joke that for as coordinated as she is, she sure can be a klutz. So toes were also crossed in hopes there wouldn't be a crutch mishap to add even more insult to her injured knee.
Adam was crowned the king. He's a good egg.
McKenzi was crowned the queen. She's a good egg too.
And Sister Pister managed to stay upright and not take a nose dive. I gave her a hug, told her I loved her, told her I was proud of her, told her she should try to not hurt the other knee before the weekend was done, jumped in my car, and took off for the 5k weekend in Bismarck. I must admit, it was quite alright with me to have to leave after half time. It was cold. And I'm getting old.
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