Mommy's Little Hockey Fans
Brian’s work recently gave out
tickets to a local hockey game and he snagged enough for the whole
family to go, plus the girls’ gal pal Elise. It was a rare
matinee game (I know that’s not what you call it, but you get
what I mean) so I said yes, with hesitations.
Maddie is, shall we say, an introvert who doesn’t know
she’s an introvert. So she loves to hang out with friends and
do stuff in a crowd – in theory. But surrounded by a ton of
sound and stimulation she’ll often hit a wall and a meltdown
is usually inevitable – after we leave and are heading home.
I wasn’t sure if we’d even be able to stay for the
whole game. But free is free and we gave it a try.
I should not have worried. The girls had a fantastic time, and for
two main reasons:
First, the food. My kids ate more crap in
that two-hour time period than they have since Christmas morning.
There was cotton candy, and hot dogs, and a bottomless bowl of
popcorn, and nachos with that electric orange cheese, and a
pretzel. I dug in my heels at a soft drink so they contented
themselves with water, but otherwise they were wired. I mean WIRED.
My kids and Elise had blue faces and fingers – from the
cotton candy – by 5 minutes into the first period, and by 6
minutes in they were all bouncing wildly on their seats. It was kid
heaven and I gave in and went with it. Except for the soda.
On a side note, Cora’s poop was green today, and as she
finished up she shook her head and said sagely,
“There’s that artificial food dye from the cotton candy
yesterday.”
But second, they absolutely adored hockey. Who knew? I think it
helped that the cheerleaders were stationed pretty close to us, so
the girls could watch the “fancy dancers” when they got
bored with the game. But boredom moments were few and far between;
the girls absolutely loved the thrill of the intense play, the
constant baited breath every time some guy got near a goal with the
puck.
Cora especially surprised me; she REALLY got into it. As soon as
the second period start I told Cora she needed to go use the potty
– the lines were nonexistent by that time – and she
complained. Loudly. That she was missing the game. The whole. Time.
“Mommy, you’re MAKING ME MISS THE GAME! What if we
score while I’m wiping my groove thing? I will be SO MAD AT
YOU!” She was practically running back to her seat, and by
the time I caught up with her she was shoving roughly past
Elise’s daddy, her eyes glued to the ice rink.
It was, I have to admit, a fantastic game for them to catch as
their first pro hockey game: our team won, in overtime. By the end
of the game Cora was standing on top of her seat, leaning into her
dad and screaming madly at the ice. Maddie and her friend Elise,
meanwhile, were burying their heads into their seats and refusing
to look every time the other team got near our goal. They all had a
fantastic time, and the dreaded meltdown never materialized –
the entire day. By bedtime both girls were asking when they could
go see another game.
So if anyone wants to know what to get the girls for their
birthdays, pint-sized jerseys would not be turned away.
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