When I was around 10, my very Italian, very Catholic father thought it be a good idea I be an alter girl. He had been an alter boy so why shouldn’t I be an alter girl?
It was a fuckin’ nightmare in my book. For anyone that isn’t Catholic, please don’t bother. I’ll be real. First of all, you have to wear some sort of stupid white mu-mu that resembles the priest. So essentially you are like the American Girl Doll of the priest. You could see the priest going into the American Girl Doll store, walking around with a American Girl Alter Girl or Boy in their hair color. If the priest was bald, the doll would be balled. You get me? Don’t judge, this is what comes from my head and I am not in control of it.
So when my knees locked on more than one occasion at 6 am church, my father thought maybe I could do basketball. In actuality, I was completely content watching Mousrcise while laying on our sofa.
“Hey, why don’t you try a few of their moves?” My ever athletic father asked.
“Nah, I’m good. I don’t want to get sweaty.” I said as I lay on the sofa in my royal blue leotard. It was the newest channel,- the Disney Channel. Beside, Mourscise was the only other good show other than Kids Incorporated.
I don’t know how it happened but I was forced into basketball. I fuckin’ hated basketball. I was that kid that no one wanted because I SUCKED! Every Saturday morning we had a game in some gym that was made in 1852. You could still smell the bubonic plague on it or something.
So here is what is baffling to me: I gave birth to an amazing soccer player, 2 actually. I will be the first one to say they didn’t get it from me.
You see, I am the kid people dreaded. I didn’t like any sport and my main goal was attempting to not get hit in the face. I never made a basket (a point; what do you call it?) at any point in that 4 month season. Like Naked And Afraid, my main goal was to survive and get the fuck out of dodge.
So I ask all of you out there…are you athletic or is shopping as far as you will go?