Last week was sports day.
I can’t bare sports day.
Maybe because when I was in school I was crap at it? My biggest sports day achievement was once coming third in the wheelbarrow race. I was the wheelbarrow of course. It’s a wonder my poor wrists didn’t snap I was such a fatty. That was the only time I ever won anything sport related. The only running I did back then was sprinting to the kitchen when my mum called us to say the Arctic Roll had thawed.
In school I was one of the drama crew. Give me a show any day lovey! Sports day has no music. It has no lights or dance routines. It doesn’t even have any costume changes…
UGH! How dull.
After the recent trauma of attending my six-year-old’s day of doom, I thought I’d do a ‘Top ten things I hate about sports day’… Just for a laugh like innit.
Top ten things I hate about sports day:
- Pushy parents – Good god. Will you please just fuck off and die. There was this dad on the side-lines at our recent sports day getting well stressy and aggro because his little lad was – ‘LOOKING AT THE FLOOR!’ He was shouting and jabbing his finger at him telling him to – ‘CONCENTRATE!’ and – ‘FOCUS!’ Christ with a javelin! Chill out dude. It’s a child’s bloody sports day, not the Hunger Games.
- The Mum Race – The worst thing about it was the fact that the mums in the lead were cheating. Yes cheating. How sad is that. Do you really want to win that badly? Why? It’s a fucking potato on a spoon love. Get a grip! Also what sort of message is this sending to the kids? I’ll tell you – a very bad one, you stupid FANNY! Do you know, the mum who won actually stuck her shellac into the potato so she could sprint full speed to the finishing line. I kid you not.
- The Dad Race – Still pretty competitive. My husband however came second from last because he dropped his potato three times, and no, that’s not a euphemism.
- Fifty million billion races which all looked the same – My kid goes to a big school. There were twelve classes. Each class has thirty kids. Each class had fifteen identical races. You do the math (said in annoying American accent). There was even twelve separate mum and dad races because there were so many bastard competitors. I mean come on! Surely we could be making some cuts here?
- NO FUN!!! – NO entertainment. NO cheerleaders. NO nail bar. (My four-year-old had confused it with the Summer Fete and wanted to know where she could go and get her nails done)
- Could not hear a thing – Even though the Head Master had a mega phone you literally couldn’t hear anything he was saying when he was the other end of the field, downwind with his back to us. Ok, so this was only slightly annoying but my OCD told me I had to make this list into ten tidy points, so there.
- No bar – Not only was there no nail bar but there was no booze bar. To be fair the PTA was selling cold cans of pop and cakes but still, a lager or a Pimms would have gone down a treat, even if it was only 10:30am.
- The heat – The poor kids looked like right sweaty, little tomato heads. Two hours of bombing around in that heat was a bit too much. Us pasty Welshies just aint designed for it. It used to be nice and cool down at the coalface.
- It was feckin two and a half hours long! – Two and a half hours just to watch my kid run two, ten-second races. UGH!!! Not only were the spectators losing the will to live, but also the kids were so bored they were going mental. There were tantrums, accidents, pitch invasions, tears, sweat, burning skin, thirst, lost toddlers and lots of pissed off looking parents checking their watches getting anxious about how much time they’d had to take off work.
- My kids face – God bless her. She was not feeling the sports day vibe. She had a face like thunder and I didn’t blame her. One bit.
Anyway it’s a step up from last year’s sports day when I’d been out for my mate’s birthday the night before. I was so hung over all I could do was sit on the grass eating crisps from the PTA stall and shouting encouragement through the legs of all the other (normal) mum and dad’s legs. I thought my lack of enjoyment last year was because of said hangover. Little did I know the whole event would be even worse sober.
Over and out.
Please Re-Tweet or share on Facebook if you, like me, detest sports day. Why not head back to my latest Insta post with your stories or comments? Maybe you could even tag a friend who you think might enjoy? That would be ace!
Thanks. Love you. Bye.