You Can’t Make This Up….

high school football

I…we…are home safe, I’ll say that first. My 11 year old- P was hell bent on seeing a local high school football game. I approach football games like pap smears but like an annual, I was faced going to one.

He chose to take 2 teammates from soccer, 2 extremely well behaved, perfect children. They literally are perfect kids as far as I’m concerned. That’s all you need to know. 😉

I had brought my laptop, confident I would find a place to fire it up and punch out a blog post. After seeing the anarchy-like atmosphere all around us, I knew I would have to be laser focused on keeping 3 preteens out of trouble.

At one point I saw 3 police officers walking the track before the game and was pleased to see one of them was my cousin- Joey. I felt a little safer knowing he was there.

God I was bored. So bored. I began to text my sister….

Football texts

I then began to text my cousin:

Clown Attacks

I decided to kill time by going to the restroom and buying a bottle of water. I walk over to one side and see port o’ Johns. Oh hell no….I go to the other side and find a semi better situation with toilets that resembled ones you would go to at 6th grade camp. I come out to find a Lord of the Flies situation. Kids are jumping on each, some are running, a few have these stupid white clapper things. I feel like I’m in a dream, walking aimlessly through the hoopla I can no longer deal with.

“Water!” I blurt out. All I need to do is get the word out to get what I want and get out of gen-pop. I didn’t make eye contact as to frustrate the natives.

5 minutes later I am back in the bleachers. Despite not telling the boys about the clown, they caught word of the clown sighting after going over to the opposing teams bleachers and hearing the rumor. For those of you who don’t know, there have been many, many clown sightings here in Central Ohio. Some are harmless and some are not. They usually roll in at school bus stops or in front of school events. I want to tell them to quit embarrassing themselves and take that stupid mask off. It was now dark and the rain began to pour….and pour…and pour.

5 minutes into the monsoon, the lights go out. Let me repeat: THE LIGHTS GO OUT! You can’t even see your hand in front of your face. People begin to scream. The boys are freaking out.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Just going to send a text to Joey,” I say, attempting to be calm while freaking out inside. It was pitch black, people were screaming and their was a potential psycho crusin’ the field. I was cocky, figuring my sheriff cousin would take care of us. No response.

The lights go on but as quick as they go up they fall back down. By now the fire truck that was on sight, shined their brights on to the situation. Unfortunately it’s not enough to reduce the panic.

“Remain calm everyone,” they say over the loud speaker. Somehow the loud speakers still worked. To make matters worse they begin to review the policy on the drawing they were holding tonight.

‘Uhhh….there is a thunderstorm out here, a potential psycho clown, the lights just went off and you want me to check my stupid raffle ticket to see if I won $150? Are you kidding me?’

” Boys!” I yell. “Let’s go!”

None of them resist, to my shock. P was hell bent on staying but even now he was cool with getting the hell out of there. As we descend the bleachers, I look over my shoulder to ensure I see 3 silhouettes behind me and that none of them were slipping on the wet metal. I am scared out of my mind. People are still screaming and those that are moving are moving swiftly and with purpose.

At one point we all hold hands. I tell them that we are a team and we will get through this. Once we make it to the main floor teens are running against us. I find an opening in the chain link fence and I take it.

“Miss Hot Mess, the exit isn’t until up here!” One of the boys protests.

“Screw the opening, it doesn’t matter, this is an exit and we are taking it!” I yell over the pings of rain drops.

Once in the car, I fight the defrost, trying to remove the veil of smoke over my windshield.

“You guys still wanna’ go to the after party?” I ask.

“No way, ” my son responds with conviction. The others chime in with 100% agreement.

I know in a few years they will look back on this and laugh. This will be a memory they will eventually treasure (I hope). For now, I am up at 11:50 typing this, being their protector from the scary ass clowns that supposedly roam a suburb of Columbus, Ohio.

Share the laughs with friends!

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