Before Ethan came along, most everything we did was pretty girly. You know, American Girl, Disney on Ice…total estrogen overload. Since he was born, nothing has changed. He’s almost seven.
Several weeks ago while at the American Girl store AGAIN for like the one-millionth time, Harley had Ethan 99% convinced that he needed to spend his money on a boy doll so they could play babies together.
And it dawned on me. We don’t do anything boy related. And I felt a pang in my chest. Poor Ethan.
After leaving the store (no, he didn’t buy a doll, not that there’s anything wrong with that) I thought about little boys. What do they even like to do?
And that’s when I saw it. The billboard read Monster Energy Drink presents Super MotoCross, THIS WEEKEND, Cowboys Stadium in Arlington.
That’s it! Boys surely like stuff like this. Right?
I pointed at the sign, excited, and said, “Ethan look! Motorcycle races! You wanna go?”
He yelled, “YEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSS!”
When we got home I immediately went online and bought tickets. I felt like the best mom in the world.
Now, this girl right here has never been to anything motorcycle race-y before so I wasn’t sure what I was in for. I mean, what does one even wear to such an event?
On the day of the MotoCross I looked through my closet. Nothing screamed “dirt bike racing.” I pulled out my t-shirt that reads “I like to fart” and thought maybe that would be appropriate, but opted to wear jeans and a black top instead. As soon as we arrived at the stadium I scanned the crowds of people. I realized then I should have worn the fart t-shirt. DAMMIT.
Ethan was so excited he couldn’t sit still. He kept asking me what was going to happen.
Yeah, like I knew the answer to that.
So I dodged his question by asking over and over again, “You want a hotdog? How about a hotdog? Does a hotdog sound good?”
That’s about the time he moved three seats down from me.
My favorite part of the whole evening was this. OK, so Monster Energy drink has Monster Energy drink “girls” who parade around in short, tight little outfits. They’re skinny and pretty and have big boobs and I pretty much hated all of them from the moment I saw them.
This one in particular (I think she was Miss Monster Energy Drink) was in charge of going in the crowd and interviewing people.
So the camera is on her and she’s on the giant screen that’s hanging from the ceiling. She’s standing next to a man who is probably mid 40′s, and bald.
With a microphone in hand she asks, “What’s your name sir and where did you drive here from?”
“My name is Joe. I’m from Arlington.”
“So Joe, was it a long drive for you tonight?”
“Well, we are IN Arlington, so no.”
But that little mess up doesn’t curtail Miss Monster Energy. “So Joe, how excited were you when Ryan Villopoto won the whole thing last night?”
“Do you mean last YEAR?”
“Yes! Sorry. Last year.”
The crowd starts to laugh at Miss Monster Energy’s expense. Her face turns a bright shade of red. She’s clearly at a loss for words. Until…
She puts a hand on Joe’s bald head and rubs it and says, “Does your head get cold since you don’t have hair?”
Impulsively I yelled at the big screen. “STOP TALKING! YOU’RE AN IDIOT!” The people sitting around me laughed and high-fived me.
I leaned over to Harley then and said, “Don’t be like that girl.”
“Mommy, she’s so dumb I’m embarrassed for her.”
Anyway, long story short, Ethan had a great time. And now wants to learn how to race motorcycles.
Over my dead, decaying body. I’m buying that boy a doll. And he will play with it. And he will like it.