Aug. 16: Football. This is not going to go well.

As much as I hate football, I’m actually glad Jack is interested in playing it. Maybe it’s because I hate it that he wants to play—that wouldn’t surprise me a bit. He’s Mr. Contrary, but sometimes I benefit. This is one of those times.

I encourage him to go out for as many sports as he’d like. I don’t want him to grow up not knowing anything about sports, so whatever interests we can cultivate when he’s young are good, as far as I’m concerned. Of course, everything has to fit within Mom-approved boundaries of safety. I don’t want him playing tackle football—let’s make it to college without a brain injury, or alive, at the very least, thankyouverymuch—but he can do flag football all he wants. Also, gymnastics. And, uh… marching band.

About six months ago, a flyer came home in the kids’ backpacks about flag football, and he was SO EXCITED, MOM! Vic and I agreed it was a good opportunity, though we were a little disappointed that it wouldn’t start until late summer. I don’t know why they sent the info out so early. Everything they’ve done since then has been totally disorganized and chaotic.

Supposedly this group of football organizers has been around for a while, but you’d think this was their first season, the way they’re handling the scheduling and notifications. We didn’t get a registration confirmation, but an email with a tentative schedule of events—safe assumption we were registered, then, right?

Right. (Whew.)

Everything on the schedule, though, had a “time TBA” next to it—a date (in some cases), but no time. In several places it also said “location TBA.” Doesn’t exactly allow us parents to plan the rest of our summer very easily, does it? I cracked up when I read the very first scheduled event was marked MANDATORY and then “time TBA.” Yeah, I’m sure we’re gonna wait around all day to find out what time we should show up for this MANDATORY thing. Make a decision, somebody! Whatevs.

They also suggested that our summer vacation take place the week of Aug. 2-6, because there was no football scheduled that week. THANK YOU! I was hoping for permission from the Football League Gods to drive to the coast for a day; now I know I’m good. Oh wait, that was two weeks ago. Shit.

“VERY IMPORTANT DAY: Aug. 28, pictures/scrimmage/jamboree. Time TBA.” They haven’t decided what time to start? Shocking.

Yes, I want The Boy to play football, but give me something to work with, Football People. Geez.

And a practice schedule? Who knows? Commissioner Ralph Wiggum hasn’t gotten that far yet.

There was a Mom’s Night announced, but barely any specifics about where to meet, what was supposed to happen, how long it would last, anything like that. Those are things moms need to know, aren’t they? Effers.

They included an email attachment called “Coaching Code of Ethincs.” I don’t know if they meant “ethics” or “ethnics,” but they missed big either way. Idiots.

Vic got a voice mail today at 5:30 that said practice would start at 6. Way to give us a heads-up, Coach Pizzaface. Jack and Vic actually made it just in time, and came home with a game schedule: games will start at 8 or 9 or 10 or 11 every Saturday starting Sept. 11. See? Totally helpful, right? EFFERS!

I need to find an up-side, right? Um… if nothing else, Jack will end up with a cool football jersey. A very expensive one, if he ends up hating football or if Mommy decides she’s had enough of the league jackasses and forbids him to go. These cool jerseys are solid gold, right? Or at least some kind of precious metal?

Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where’s the Tylenol?