Earlier this week, I was in London, Ontario with my friend and her family to see the World Lacrosse Championships. Her husband plays recreational lacrosse, and enough of his friends were able to get together to play as Team Watertown--- woo hoo!!! So, off we went to the fields to watch him play.
I know nothing about lacrosse, except that it is yet another sport that involves getting a ball into a goal. How novel. So I got a little fidgety and made a trip to the bathroom. Shaking my hands dry, I walked back out into the hazy afternoon, only to smack right into two very dreamy players from the Welsh team. I looked at my feet, muttered an apology, and basically floated back to my chair on a cloud of lust.
The game was still going, and I started to glaze over. Except for making sure my kids didn't run on to the field, there wasn't a whole lot to do, except, well, watch lacrosse. But then I looked to my left and saw an entire team rising over the horizon, walking my way. With a few exceptions, each player was hotter than the next. My friend was equally impressed. I looked closer and whispered, "It's the team from Ireland." "Holy smokies," Heather sighed. They kept walking closer. And closer. Then they started to pass us. And there was one guy in the middle of the pack, with green eyes and dark hair, tall and amazing, who seemed to have a ray of light cast over only him. And he was staring at me. He kept staring until he got to the point that he would have to turn around to see me, if he continued. There was no one else on the planet, except me and my Irish man. The exchange with him in my head went something like this:
"Oh, my love, how tragic that we should find each other at this point in our lives. Yes, darling, yes I love you, but it can never be, for I am happily married. See all of these children? Yes, they are mine, and as you can see, I would have made you beautiful children as well. All sons, because I am but a boy factory. Oh please, please do not weep, my love, do not weep. You must remain strong for your upcoming match with Japan. Perhaps in another lifetime, another epoch, we will find each other again, and I can return with you to Ireland, the home of my ancestors."
And surely, as he stared at me, he was thinking,
"Jeez, I could really go for some nachos."
I know nothing about lacrosse, except that it is yet another sport that involves getting a ball into a goal. How novel. So I got a little fidgety and made a trip to the bathroom. Shaking my hands dry, I walked back out into the hazy afternoon, only to smack right into two very dreamy players from the Welsh team. I looked at my feet, muttered an apology, and basically floated back to my chair on a cloud of lust.
The game was still going, and I started to glaze over. Except for making sure my kids didn't run on to the field, there wasn't a whole lot to do, except, well, watch lacrosse. But then I looked to my left and saw an entire team rising over the horizon, walking my way. With a few exceptions, each player was hotter than the next. My friend was equally impressed. I looked closer and whispered, "It's the team from Ireland." "Holy smokies," Heather sighed. They kept walking closer. And closer. Then they started to pass us. And there was one guy in the middle of the pack, with green eyes and dark hair, tall and amazing, who seemed to have a ray of light cast over only him. And he was staring at me. He kept staring until he got to the point that he would have to turn around to see me, if he continued. There was no one else on the planet, except me and my Irish man. The exchange with him in my head went something like this:
"Oh, my love, how tragic that we should find each other at this point in our lives. Yes, darling, yes I love you, but it can never be, for I am happily married. See all of these children? Yes, they are mine, and as you can see, I would have made you beautiful children as well. All sons, because I am but a boy factory. Oh please, please do not weep, my love, do not weep. You must remain strong for your upcoming match with Japan. Perhaps in another lifetime, another epoch, we will find each other again, and I can return with you to Ireland, the home of my ancestors."
And surely, as he stared at me, he was thinking,
"Jeez, I could really go for some nachos."
posted by The June Cleaver Diaries at 5:52 PM
11 Comments:
Now THAT'S funny.
And suddenly I want some nachos.
TOO FUNNY!!!!! Thanks for the laugh!
Catherine
http://angelfoodcakeisntacandle.blogspot.com
Well, if I can't have a hot Irish Lacrosse player for breakfast, nachos would be the next best thing.
My first laugh of the day - thanks! There was one of those "Irish" guys in my communications class in college and every girl in the glass had a thang for him, even me and I was a good 15 years older than him. Dang he was cute and I looked so forward to T/TH 9:15
You gave me my first laugh of the day. Thanks.
LOL! But hey, don't sell yourself short! He was just acting uninterested to hide his pain of losing you.
am laughing so hard that it actually hurts. i though i was the only one who has those types of conversations.
ooh. ouch. still hurts.
one of my sisters just moved to London, ON. her hubby teaches at the university there... small world!
Hi,
I found you through "Where Am I Going.." today and read through some of your posts...I enjoyed it. I loved this story too, as I am a fellow fantasizer on occasion!
Is that where I can find the dreamy looking Irish guys? Lacrosse matches? Dang. So tell me, do they all fit the mould of my 'perfect' guy - 6ft tall (and above), brunette with gorgeous green eyes and a tragic hero face and a bod to die for?
That's what I saw!!! But then I went through the team rosters on the website, and I swear those not-so-beautiful guys weren't there. It was truly the female version of the Playboy mansion, if you ask me...
Oh my goodness, a blogger who actually has BEEN to London! I thought all the hot blogging mamas devoted their time exclusively to Toronto. I'm teaching on campus right now so I much enjoyed all the lacrosse-related scenery during the tournament.
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