And just when I thought our family vacation would always operate with individuals selfishly devoid of any concern for another, we found a common enemy – Algeria. Suddenly harmony emanated from a rented room at Lake Tahoe with a small screen TV complete with techno snow. Who would have guessed that World Cup referees causing knots in our stomachs, pains in our limbs, and hope in our hearts would be a good thing?
Early on, the GAP, mathematical to a sin, spouted, “If Slovenia and England ties, then the U.S. advances.” She mumbled something about if Germany lost to Ghana, continuing with statistics about Serbia and Australia at lightening speed. Then she talked about if one game ended in a tie and this team won or that team lost. “No, sorry,” she caught her own mistake. No one had paid attention to her anyway until she started all over again. Forget the statistics, if I can’t point to the country on a map from 1960 or can’t spell the name without spell check then I have no interest.
But it was probably the Absolute Wishes hypothesis that thwarted my enthusiasm. It limits wishes granted in a person’s lifetime. Before one sporting event, I’d, as usual, analyzed urgent situations in my life before trading a wish for world peace for a winning touchdown. I knew I missed out on at least one dream-come-true — the handsome lead from Burn Notice sneaking in during the middle of the night and eating my yogurt — because I negligently rooted for a Chicago Cubs pennant win.
“Mom, you’re on crack,” the GAP accused. “Your premise is totally bogus. Haven’t you heard of the Principle of Predetermined Parceled Prizes? You get wishes for each component in your life.” I eyed her skeptically. “If you use a sports wish for a soccer win,” she instructed, “it doesn’t diminish the family wishes.”
I went for it. I routed for the good ole’ US of A. Result – Donovan scoring a late goal during overtime was now World Cup history.
The small room in Lake Tahoe rocked with resounding Yeahs. Only the three-month old Mouse was at odds, screaming, jarred awake from a deep sleep.
Secretly, I wondered what family dream I had just offered up in my life. I needed all the wishes I could get for my family. Raising this family was, and still is, a contact sport.
Related posts:
- Let me introduce you to my family
- What’s in a name?
- Family vacation nightmare
- Entering the world of soccer
- List for the doctor
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