KID SHIRT

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

PANCAKED

Pleased to announce my wife came in last at the school Pancake Race...

And not in a humiliating/embarassing way...no, I'm waaaaay proud of the way she kinda just sashay'd round the course, randomly dropping her pancake and laughing, with a like I give a fuck expression on her face, while the handful of stressed-out competitive mum front-runners jostled and elbowed and glowered at each other, 'cause it's like such a total big deal coming first in front of yr kids, innit. "Go, mum, gooooo!" yelled Kid Kid Shirt, who, like Chris, doesn't give a shit about such things, but it's hard to run w/ a pancake on yr face without looking like a living, 3-D Mister Smiley.

"Bloody wind kept lifting the pancake," shrugged Chris as she trotted across the line, unfazed and oozing cool, 30 seconds after a clutch of rabid, fat mums had given themselves a mass coronary. "Do I have to eat it now? It's got gravel all over it..."

Somewhere behind her, the woman who'd come second was squaring up to the woman who'd come third...pans were clenched tightly in white-knuckled hands: it was about to kick off. "Yer just a bad loser! I was at least a foot ahead of you..."

8 Comments:

At 7:18 pm, Blogger the X said...

- Ha, brilliant: "a PANCAKE race"...!!!
that's SO much cooler than our "run around the block in five minutes, then bum a fag from the others in the schoolyard"-shtick...

Ye crazy Brits...

(was it eaten?)

 
At 7:23 pm, Blogger the X said...

(BTW, where's the green blog borders?
did you and Psychbloke have a white-out simultaneously?)
hmm...

 
At 8:20 am, Blogger Dominic Zero said...

Chris should be honoured with a statue in her likeness for such a healthy attitude.

 
At 8:55 am, Blogger Loki said...

excellent... Mrs Loki came last in the summer Sports Day Mum's race... fell spectacularly despite being well in front of the field (took out 2 other mums with the kind of squealing rolls that you normally see on Italian footballers)... the Dad's race was changed at the last minute to some weird medicine ball hop-a-long because over the years it had turned into a desperate needle match between the Dads ((((mostly due to a hugely disputed race when Mr F(uckface) was given equal first place with me despite being easily a head down at the line))))....

"It's getting too competitive," the school said but I couldn't hear because I was stil ranting about how come the PTA and the Friends of the School hadn't invested in the photo-finish cameras I'd suggested...

i guess they had a point. 2 years ago some guy turned up in running spikes and one of those all in one running suits that Kathy Freeman won the Sydney Olympics 400m in...

I kid you not.

 
At 11:53 am, Blogger the X said...

...do they have to run with the pancake ON THEIR FACE?!?

that sounds very British...

 
At 8:02 pm, Blogger kek-w said...

Pancake Day is a UK only thang, I think... it's modern-day bastardisation of Shrove Tuesday aka Shrovetide, wh/ is that last 3 days before Lent...

typically, though, us Brits have turned it into a binge-eating contest. Here's some info for any non-Anglos reading this:

"Shrovetide was celebrated with games, sports, dancing and other revelries. There were feasts to use up the food that could not be eaten during the Lenten fast. Football was played in the streets and Nickanan Night (as Shrove Monday evening was called in Cornwall) was a time for boys to run riot in the villages: hiding gates, taking off door knockers, and making off with anything that householders had forgotten to lock away..."

Rural Hoodies, in other words.

 
At 9:11 pm, Blogger johneffay said...

Fate having dealt me a primary school teacher for a partner, I have witnessed far too many of these parents' sports events for my own good. Whilst I can only applaud your good lady's attitude I've seen somebody top it.

The occasion was a parents' football match and you can imagine the seriousness with which the Competitive Dads were taking it: Middle aged men running around, making out that the result didn't matter when clearly they were desperate to impress. Whilst the event was also open to mums, only one had volunteered for a team: A statuesque blonde who was in goal. She spent the entire match with a cigarette in one hand and a can of Special Brew in the other. Pure class.

 
At 2:34 pm, Blogger kek-w said...

Haha...brilliant!

 

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