I have nothing of substance against the average cheerleader. Cute, perky, shiny hair, in shape...what's not to love? But I don't....never have. It is a completely unjustified secret (until now) lackadaisical loathe. It is one for which I am not especially proud. Being that I am usually all live and let live etc. To each her own...and let the kidlets be free to be who they really are, never squelch that spirit...how new age of me.
This is why the Muffin Man was practically doubled over in hysterics last night ready to have a kitten when he guessed immediately what Ava's first choice for after school activity would be. Tried as I might I just could not steer her to italian cooking, karate, baking, mad cap science, chess for champions, or kickball. "Cheerleading", she whooped. (Just like a cheerleader...I observed grumpily.) I tried psychology, reverse psychology and bribery. Nothing worked. "Tell her how cool chess playing scientists are.", I snottily scolded him. He giggled like a school girl and slinked out the back door. Seriously, I am the only one who really parents around here.
So, on Monday night at 7pm I will be standing in line at the school gym with all the other cheerleading wanna-be mothers with $20 in hand to try to be one of the first to enroll Ava in cheerleading. My God, I could tolerate this so much better if she would just concede to hip hop dancing. I've heard through the ever powerful elementary grapevine that after school activity sign up can be very crowded and somewhat competitive. Fabulous. Competitive to get this kid into the class? Where is the ice pick? My eye needs it.
Since she doesn't have to see me go sign her up I might take my old basketball, university diploma and dusty old corporate id badge while standing in line. How's that for live and let live?