It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m just too distracted to get anything done. I mean, first, there’s Lindsay Lohan. Did she REALLY steal a necklace right after leaving rehab? Would anyone be so foolish? (Um, okay, maybe the mom in NC who thinking entirely too much about Lindsay Lohan. But otherwise…) Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson have broken up, which makes me sad. And then there’s the Duke-Carolina game tonight. Being that I am local, my Facebook newsfeed has been nothing but smack talk since about six this morning. People are READY.
I used to live and breathe UNC basketball. Days like this I’d wake up with a pit in my stomach, be nervous all the way until tipoff. I charted my social life and work commitments around the games, knew every starter and their major stats. But then….I had my daughter. Who happens to wake up at 5:30 most mornings. Games like this one tend to start at 9. Which leaves me with the dilemma of all dilemmas: stay up for a great game and pay, pay, PAY at 5:30, or go to bed and get sleep but miss everything. No sleep means I’m braindead, can’t work when I do have help, and am a total crabby pants. But no game makes me feel like the Worst Fan Ever.
What’s even more upsetting is that MY CHILD has been torturing me lately by preferring Duke Blue over the vastly superior Carolina shade. This is the same kid that I dressed in a UNC onesie for every game day, who joined me in stalking Tyler Hansborough when he hung out at Whole Foods on a regular basis. Now, at the grocery store, when it’s time for the free balloon, it’s all about the dark blue. “What about this one?” I say, yanking down the sky blue alternative. “NO! I want dark!” she says. Okay, so it’s just a color. No big deal, right? But then, last time we were at the beach, there was a dark blue house across the way. One of the babysitters kept joking about the Duke house, my daughter connected the two, and just like that, the damage was done. “I like Duke!” she’d say, and I would feel my head about to explode. “No, you DON’T!” I’d tell her, and she’d just laugh at me. She was doing it this morning, at our local breakfast joint, just to mock me, and the waiter said, “Better start saving up for that private school education.” I just looked at him. “NO CHILD OF MINE WILL BE GOING TO DUKE,” I told him, in a thunderous, Zeus-like voice. He scuttled away, afraid. Meanwhile, Sasha is laughing. “I like Duke! Duke! Duke!” Oh, the shame.
I know, I know. Most of you out there are like, what in the world? Duke is a good school, has a good team. I am a (mostly) reasonable person. What is it about this rivalry that makes me completely insane? I wish I could tell you. It’s genetic, or in the water here. All my friends who pull for Duke feel just as strongly, if not more so, about their hatred for Carolina. But my own CHILD, crossing over to the dark side? Literally? Oh, I can’t handle it.
*buries head in hands*
That’s it. I’m staying up for the whole game, even if I am a total zombie tomorrow. I have to do it for my pride, my team, and my own piece of mind. Also, maybe I will paint her room Carolina Blue while she’s over at grandma’s this weekend. The walls ARE all scuffed up anyway…
Have a good night, everyone!