Homecoming

My kiddos and I went to my high school's homecoming game this weekend. Our neighbor's daughter was on the homecoming court, so we had a vested interest in this particular game.   Plus, 20 years ago, I was homecoming queen and I like to go back and see who is carrying on the tradition.

Homecoming was the same as I remember.  Kids seeing and being seen, walking in those familiar packs.   Parents in the concession stand cooking hot dogs and hamburgers, teachers selling tickets and the band playing the same songs in the stands.

We ended up getting to the stadium a few minutes after kickoff.  My posse and I ended up standing behind the fence at the end zone.  This wasn't the best place to see or hear, but the stands were packed and I didn't feel like swimming upstream to the 2 seats our friends had managed to save us.  There were 4 in our party and my "seat" is, after 3 kids, a bit larger than it was in high school.  I'd need at least 2 spots  just for me.

 I guess I could have had a seat (or should I say seats?) and  left my kids in the throng of high school students at the fence.  Keep in mind this was the end of a long day- a loooonnng week- so the chance to sit with other adults was reeealllly tempting.  

Oh, my kids? They're over there, about a mile away,  in that huge crowd of rowdy high school kids. I'm sure they're not being crushed into the fence.  Just hand me that Mom of the Year award...pass it right on over here.

So we didn't sit, we couldn't really hear anything and some fool kid had one of those crazy horns from the World Cup (remember- they sound like angry wasps and are completely annoying?). He'd blow that thing at the most inappropriate times.  As an alumni of the school, a parent and normal citizen, let me tell you that there was a moment, however fleeting, that I felt the urge to wrap that horn around his neck.   Lucky for him he was quiet while we strained to hear who won Homecoming Queen.

Our neighbor didn't win.  We were disappointed but still proud that our friend was nominated.  Plus she looked amazing and waved to the kiddos on her way to the field.  The Little Man was thrilled.

We left after halftime.  The kids were dragging and I was feeling lots older and much more dorky than my 38 years. (yes, gasp! I'm 38.)  Did I always look this old?  For some reason, the high school kids look lots older than I did at their age.  And if they look so much older, wouldn't it stand to reason that since I know I didn't look that old when I was in high school that I'd look lots younger now?   Right?  I know, I know. My logic eludes you.  It eludes my husband most days too.  Just nod your head in agreement and lets move on.

I'd love to share pictures of this night with you, but I have failed nighttime photography. They all stunk.
So let me go read my manual on taking pictures at night and perhaps by next year's homecoming, I'll be an expert.