Please... no heart attacks...
Yes... this is a denim skirt...
Yes... that is essentially a t-shirt and a pair of low cut boots...
Yes... this is the outfit that I wore today...
-- LET ME EXPLAIN --
Today was Trophy Day at the soccer complex.
Trophy Day is a mixture of excitement, chaos and quasi organization combined with far too little manpower. You see... no one EVER wants to volunteer for these types of chores.
Enter my Big Sis... the queen of volunteer...
This time she roped me in although I didn't know it until I was already committed. She is a sly one that older sister... 007 would be proud.
She sends in the niece & nephew early in the week with an invitation to watch their respective soccer games on Saturday. Smart. Hit me before I can commit to anything else for the day.
How can I refuse?
About midweek she informs me that this weekend's games are spread out with several hours in between so I should just plan the whole day with them.
Not a big deal... I love spending time with the only family that I have here in town.
Saturday morning... early... The phone rings.
On the other end of the line... one of the few people that know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will be up at this early hour... my Big Sis...
"Jordan, I need a favor today."
"Sure, what do you need?"
"Today is Trophy Day and we could use some help distributing them. Could you lend a hand?"
"I suppose so, what will I need to do?"
"It's simple really, open boxes, hand out trophies to coaches... that sort of thing."
"Okay, happy to help."
"Great! Can you meet us at the soccer complex in an hour?"
007... I think M would be proud of how coyly she roped me in.
Sooo... Let the outfit scramble begin...
I suppose high heels are out? My leather pants? Probably not. Perhaps a cashmere sweater? I imagine that wouldn't be wise either.
As I dig and dig in a harried and panicked state what appears? This little denim skirt that probably hasn't seen the sun in years. I don't own a pair of jeans so this seems like the logical solution.
Cute, too. Huh?
It happens to also be from Harold's. Ahh... Harold's.
Mix in a simple t-shirt (albeit a quite soft t-shirt) in a shade that will hopefully repel its share of dirt and grime...
... Throw in a pair of boots that at least have a chunky enough heel to keep me from getting stuck in the mud...
... And an outfit is born...
Okay, so they are not Doc Martins.
Hey... I'm an "inside girl" at heart.
For those that do not know...
On Trophy Day, teams of children approach what passes for a makeshift stage in what can only be described as a chaotic manner. Try as they might, the coaches and parents are virtually helpless to provide any sort of organization to this all out attempt to gain access to their prize. The kids are relentless.
Some teams are better than others but all are less than organized. I am being polite.
Sis is in charge. I have been given "box duty" since I'm merely a rookie. Box duty entails finding (always an adventure) and opening said box to reveal the shiny awards. This is a labor intensive position that only the naive would accept. Enter the "green horn" named Jordan.
I am not complaining, although I know it seems that way, I am simply stating the obvious.
How many teams are in this league, you ask? My guess... 4 million.
They just kept coming... and coming... a steady stream.
Our only breaks came when it was time for Sis's kids to play. I even worked through lunch. I am whipped!!!
Sis... you owe me BIG TIME for today... BIG TIME!!!
I'm thinking that she is getting about 75% of the wheel time when we drive back east for Thanksgiving.
Enough complaining. Tomorrow is another day. Off to bed.
Hope Your Weekend Is As Wonderful & Blessed As Mine Has Already Been!!!
-- Jordan --