This picture is a little grainy -- sort of like our eleventy-hundred-year-old dining room floor -- and kind of cool, too. Looking at it a little closer, it also reminds me a little of my childhood: watching Lucha Libre on UHF (look it up, youngsters!) and the awful television reception we sometimes had at our house.
Today? It very well might be an app on someone's smartphone. Weird, right?
Aaaaanyway, my son's wrestling team had their last meet, so I snapped off a quick pic of the last time the boy would wrestle for the middle school team.
I cannot begin to tell you just how very disappointed he was at the thought of not wrestling for the rest of the school year, and how very unhappy I am about his wanting to tryout for the high school wrestling team, without sounding like a total jerk about it.
Long story, short (we hope!) my son is over 6 feet tall (that 1 inch really does make a difference, trust me!) and, well, most middle school wrestlers are under 6 feet tall.
Many high school wrestlers are also a lot smaller than my son.
He is all arms and legs (see picture, above) so, he is basically re-learning how to control his limbs and is pretty funny about it, flailing his arms and legs around to make me laugh and possibly forgetting about his leaving a trail of wet towels in his room...AGAIN...dammit!!!
"Do the alien from Independence Day, again!"
Because, when parenting teenagers, we are ALL about referring to movies and sometimes even misquoting popular 80's song lyrics -- Mama don't preach, you're in trouble deep! -- hey, whatever works, right?!?
Aaaaanyway, he wrestled but one real match (that actually counted) and other two (including the one up in that photo) were exhibition matches.
Basically, I watched the boy watch the rest of his wrestling team wrestle.
Still, unless if he was sick (with 4 kids, and the oldest one working in a hospital, chances are YES!) the kid attended every wrestling practice and meet -- even though there was no guarantee that he would wrestle or that there would be time for an exhibition match -- which makes that grainy-looking picture up there...totally awesome...to me, anyway.
"I knew you and Hopey were watching."
So, when I tell you he happened to actually WIN that wrestling match up there and I'm all, like...YAY!!!...this is how I want to remember wrestling.
"It was like a battle cry went off, in my head!"
Also, the part when my husband asked him how it felt to win his last (and first) match.
"I felt like a Spartan!"
Spartans, tonight, we dine in hell!!!
[sound of crickets, chirping]
300? Battle of Thermopylae?
Look, over there, isn't that Gerard Butler?!?
[cue sound of door, SLAMMING!]
Stupid historical fantasies, dumbass Spartans.
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