Sunday, June 12, 2011

My Missing Child

I'm pretty sure I have an eleven-year-old. I remember having him the past eleven years, however, I barely see him. I see remnants that tell me he has been here, such as the trail of dirty socks and wrappers from the kitchen to his room. Seriously. What's will the socks. As soon as Noah makes a rare appearance, the socks come off and drop where he stands. I rarely see him. He and his father seem to believe he absolutely must be at a practice, a game, an organized scrimmage, staying at some kids house or having kids stay here 24-7. What ever happened to "I'm bored" during summer? Why does an 11-year-old need to have a social calendar that leaves literally 1 DAY free the whole summer? It has been a very hot button topic at my house lately. From the time everyone wakes up until they go to bed it is sports. sports, sports. All three eat (we had to sell 20 tickets for a Texas Road House Lunch), breathe (at baseball) and live sports. No one talks about anything else. The only thing on TV at my house is ESPN or some sports game. It doesn't matter if I'm watching Little House on the Prairie, the channel gets changed as soon as someone else walks in the room. I feel like I don't fit in, or belong in this family. I belong in a family that hates sports (except basketball and the Superbowl commercials and snacks). I like basketball, but not enough to watch it on TV or DVR it. I like it enough to watch it live if I know someone playing. Other than that, nothin'. I'm beyond sick of it. So I wonder, how is it that I am all alone in a house with two boys and three dogs- and the one missing kid?

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