Round of Rodeo Ping Pong

Last night, I went to the rodeo with Sister Pister and two of her friends.  I figure if teenagers are willing to be seen in public with you, then you must not be too embarrassing.  They even let me ride with them during the sacred teenage girl vehicle listening to music, talking about boys, and being ridiculous time. 

Don't you remember what riding in a car with your girlfriends was like when you were in high school?  I'm sure you do.  Well, they let me in on that escapade.  Which makes me think my cool factor must be hanging on.  Probably by a thread.  But hanging on.

Having a sister who is younger than me by ten years keeps me current.   

Let's just have a real quick moment for Sister Pister's boots.  My feet will be squeezed into them for a Friday night out.  I don't care if they hurt the entire time.  It will be worth it. 

The singing of the national anthem and horse riding flag business at the beginning of a rodeo squeezes my chest every time.  And sometimes it even brings a tear to my eye.  It's just one of those things.  The horse gradually gaining speed throughout the song, the people all with their hand over their heart...good stuff. 

This was definitely not my first rodeo at sitting during a rodeo, but I find that it is a continual struggle for me to simply be.  Here's what happens, follow with me through a round of rodeo ping pong...

An event starts and I pay attention.  This one happened to be steer wrestling. 

Then I notice there is a ref.  A ref in rodeo?  Wearing black and white stripes.  So I think about that for a few minutes.    

Then I look down and it catches my eye that I enjoy the way my sweater looks against my jeans.  The dark blue and cream combination with the different textures of the jeans and the knitting pattern makes my heart happy for a few minutes.    

By the time I'm done with jean and sweater time, it's the next event.  Saddle bronc riding.  I didn't watch the bucking horses.  Ladies, I think you can figure out why this pick up man was more captivating than the bucking horses.  A man.  On a horse.  A hot man.  On a horse.  This held my attention for more than a few minutes.  

The next event was calf roping or team roping.  I can't remember for sure which one because I was more interested in the pattern on my boot.  As I sat there, with a camera to my face, taking a picture of my own boot, I'm sure I looked like a completely normal rodeo fan.  And I should admit here that they aren't actually my boots.  They are Sister Pister's.  The girl has the boots I tell you.    

So finally, after what seems like an eternity of sitting and entertaining myself, it was time for the bull riding.  The most exciting event.  Or at least that's the common train of thought.  There's the snot flying from their noses, the clowns jumping around, the one arm in the air with the other tied in tight...it's a crazy thing to hang on to a bull.  You'd think I could actually watch, but instead I payed attention to Sister Pister's ring and the stripes on the clowns shirt and wondered if he planned to match his barrel. 

And then, when it was all said and done, as the four of us were walking in the busy hallway of the arena, I yelled. Simply yelled. It had been more than enough of sitting for me and a yell was necessary. My cool factor was in question at that moment.  The girls didn't seem too embarrassed though so I think maybe I will be invited along again.