My husband stopped taking our dog to doggie preschool after the second week. He was so embarassed by her inability to not embarass him, he solved it by not going. The last straw was when she decided right in the middle of learning "sit" that it was time to poop, right then and there, that their fate was sealed. He sent me instead. She's twelve now, and can sit, but only "stays" because she's too darn lazy to get up anymore.
I started to notice a pattern when Sarge stopped going to the oldest child's soccer games when he was four and stood in the middle of the field and howled like a coyote instead of running around like the rest of the children. He was trying to intimidate them. They were four and just thought he was weird. Sarge quit going and sent me instead.
I'm quite proud of Sarge, seven weeks into our eight week flag football season that he's only missed the games when he's been working, and even then he'll show up when he has time during his shift, which is quite amusing, because it sends all the parents parked in the fire lane into quite a state.
But here's the thing. We sit in the back of the bleachers with one other couple and quietly heckle our own team. Don't get me wrong, we're fiercely loyal. When the other moms on the other team shout so loudly that we want to stuff the flags down their throats, we'll instead shout a little louder. And we share in the joy of a great play, a great flag pull or even a surprise touchdown by the center. Or we are indignant over a "bad call" by the referee (because they're all "bad calls" when their against our team, darnit) or call not made on the other team when we're sure it should have been a penalty.
But. But. Sometimes we giggle a little at our boys. Quietly (most of the time). That's why we sit in the back, I suppose. We're quite sure that our boys won't go on to the NFL. We're quite sure that our boys won't even make the flag football playoffs. And sometimes it's funny when their flags fall off or they run the wrong direction. And it's adorable when they glare at the ball like Vulture Snoopy before a play - okay that's not adorable, but it's worth laughing at my kid for.
I suppose it only cements my status as a slacker-mom that I don't bring my own folding chair and sit daintily on the sidelines while the dads pace. That I sometimes laugh at my kid and I sit in the back. Just so long as he can't hear us, but he knows where to look when he does something great to see us cheering him on.