The stuff sitcoms are made of

This was the conversation going on in the backseat of our van as we were on our way to Mobile yesterday evening.

Zack: "MATT, BE QUIET!"

Matt: "NO!"

Zack: "BE QUIET!!!"

Matt: "NO!"

Zack: "BE QUIET!!!"

Matt: "NO!!!"

Zack: "YES! BE QUIET! I'M OLDER THAN YOU SO YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME!"

Matt: "I CAN STILL PUNCH YOU!!!!"



You can't make this stuff up.

On the subject of going to Mobile . . . we made the mistake of going to watch Blacksher (our team) get their butts stomped on, wiped off, and stomped on again by Mobile Christian (the enemy). It was their homecoming.  

WHAT WERE WE THINKING??!!

We had to park across the street at a church because they were charging a parking fee. A PARKING FEE??!! For a high school football game? Geez, Louise!

So we parked across the street and walked at least a mile to get to the game.

Don't get me wrong. I seriously need the exercise. But you try crossing four lanes of traffic with three kids, 2 blankets, 3 jackets, 1 purse filled with 2 kids' supper because they didn't finish eating and were still hungry, and 2 bleacher cushions.

You'd think they'd have some street lights so drivers can see you. No. And we were all wearing purple, except Ian. He was wearing blue.


Just before we made it across, Matt's kids meal toy popped open and all of the little cards inside fell out onto the street.

Mom was not about to stop her big purple-wearing self in the middle of the street to pick up some cards.

Needless to say I had a very unhappy Matt on my hands for the rest of the hike to the main gate.

Zack was a sweetheart and gave Matt his cards.

We finally made it to the main gate, sweaty and out of breath. Please tell me why I bothered to fix my hair and put on make-up?

Anywho. Long story short. They charged us $24 to get into this game ($6 each), had port-a-potties with no toilet paper, and rickety wooden bleachers that weren't high enough to see over the cheerleaders to be able to watch the game. We ended up leaving right after half-time. What a waste of time and money. I don't think I'll be going to any more away games.

Funny moment: When we stopped for gas on the way home, I discovered I'd been sitting on french fries. I had a nice greasy butt stain when I took the kids in the store to use the restroom.