Milk + Grace = An Embarrassing Story

I should have listened to my mom. Maybe then my most embarrassing story would be still when I closed my finger in the car door and that’s how I broke my first bone. But, no this is by far the worst thing that has ever happened to me. For once I am not over dramatizing.

This lovely incident occurred on a warm summer evening near the end of July in 2016. It had been a good day. I went on a hike with my family and my growing old chocolate Labrador. Took a swim in the lake after the wonderful but exhausting trudge. Got a little in trouble for complaining mid way through. After the hike I succeeded in getting ice cream from the gelato place back in town. Then dropping it all over my flip flops which my mom still can’t remove the wet shadowed spot on the left shoe. Wasps loved my feet after that. Stupid bugs.

My dad generously bought me a Grande Vanilla Bean Frappuccino after the clumsy moment I had. I was obsessed with this drink. The sweet scent and the delightful creamy vanilla ice cream taste. It was magic to my senses. My mom however ruined this joyful moment.

“Grace, maybe you should take a lactaid pill?” She proposed, holding the little square paper package the chalky pill was in.

I laughed. Out loud. My little sister and mom were both lactose intolerant. They have been for quite awhile now. It was so much fun being able to eat ice cream and any other dairy products in front of my sister. Little victories matter.

Then it was soccer practice. My dad coaches my sister’s soccer team and at the time I was one of the assistant coaches. Just until the summer was over. I loved those girls. I felt like an older sister to all of them. They had something I wasn’t very used to with my soccer team. They actually treated each like a team.
We were on a grass oval with a gravel track surrounding. Trees lined the left side of the field. A couple paths followed in the forest. A middle school was on the far side of the field. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping. It was a perfect summer day.

Not. The feeling of an tiny earthquake rumbled somewhere deep in my stomach. My run slowed in leading the girls around the field. The dreadful Scottish mile we were trying to achieve. I’ve never been the fastest runner so me slowing down made a little more sense. I, however, didn’t wanna look anything less then perfect as an assistant coach so I pushed through the rumbling. Finally, we reached the end of the jog. I gasped for air.

My palms were slightly clammy and my head was swimming with slight pains. I mean yeah, I got fatigued when running but this was a new low. I dropped the water bottle and jogged into the huddle formed around the 3 coaches.
We were told to make two groups. The defenders on the sides of the net and the forwards and midfields on the half line. I was put in with the girls. Just to show them certain things. I played in the center of the field on my team so I naturally jogged to that spot. The drill was fun and I had a couple teaching moments. Hehe yay. I had almost forgotten about the pain that has now traveled farther down in my stomach. The sun had begun to fall down behind the trees and the mosquitos were coming up to feed. The trees were now making a shaded spot of the grass which made everything a lot cooler. Except not for me. This is where I knew there had to be something wrong. A noise echoed through me. My face twisted. I hoped to God no one had heard what I just witnessed. My stomach flip flopped again.

“Dad? Can I run to the washroom?” I asked quickly.

He nodded and sent me on my way. I jogged/walked over to the middle school. I think I got bitten about 8 times by those stupid blood suckers. I found the nearest entrance and pulled at the door. It was locked. I huffed and walked around the building and tried the next door. Locked. The next one. Nope. I went all the way around the darn building and every single door was locked. Frick.

I began to frantically look around for a spot to go. Anywhere could work at this moment in time. The forest! That should do. I noticed a path but totally ignored that idea because well what if someone saw me? This whole situation is awkward enough. My stomach churned. I ran into the forest. Then well it happened. I may be descriptive in other things during this story but for yours and my own sake I will leave that as it is. I sighed in relief and began to stand up. Just to be stung by those ungrateful jerks known as wasps. Oh yeah and I got stung just below my right hip. Tears began to fall as I squealed in pain. Nausea kicked in and another nasty thing occurred. Fear had arrived and made me run outta that forest so fast I stepped in a mud puddle just to top everything off.

Now limping, I walked back to my dad. Tears poured down my cheeks. Well at least my stomach stopped hurting. My dads face said it all when I arrived.

“What now Grace?” He asked with a sigh.

He got yelled at this later from my mom and he apologized so don’t worry. I am normally just over dramatic so I understood where he was coming from. He told me to sit down and phone my mother. I did as he said. She answered after the third ring. I don’t even think I spoke English into the phone. Just a lot of sobbing and mumbles. But it got my mom to come so that’s good.

She picked me up and I cried some more. Finally, after catching my breath I explained what I just went through. After finishing and expecting her to feel bad for me she did what I did earlier to her. She laughed. And continued laughing until we reached home. Tears of joy stung her eyes. Mine were completely gone now and a most pissed off expressing wore on my upset face.

“Mom. Are you done? Its not funny!” I said pleading her to stop.

“Okay but it is funny. This sounds like a Seinfeld episode.” She giggles again.

“Mom” I huffed crossing my arms.

“You should have taken that lactaid pill.” She gives me a knowing look.

Thus, began me being lactose intolerant. I should have listened to my mom.

They Aren’t The Flinstones

Should sports teams be allowed to have first nations names as their logos or for mascots? I think not. Not even sure why this is being debated about today. Oh yeah that’s right, some people thought it would be a good idea to use different races as team names. Well isn’t that smart. Good job guys. Totally being equal here.

But its not so much the idea of making these teams have “history” as some coaches would say but rather the fact of how much they stereotype in the logos or mascots. Seriously its terrible. They have faces of the first nations from back when they were first found. These teams are still with those logos now in 2018. Why? Like come on guys, No one is dressing like Pocahontas anymore! Unless you’re a 6-year-old girl dressing up for Halloween. Still regretting that decision now. In ‘sorry for being a stereotype’ there were a bunch of things said about the way people see herself and the other first nations “You know. Long black hair, braids, feathers, beads.”. (Pyrillis) They aren’t educated in the how these people are just like everyone else. One thing that is a huge bother about racism is the fact that we are all human. The same species though we look different. Technically we haven’t invented clones yet so, no one actually looks alike. If that’s the logic then shouldn’t everyone be racists to everyone? Just saying. These coaches and officials however are being very stuck in their ways. In the case of the Edmonton Eskimos that name isn’t being changed. A poll was put out near the beginning of February to get the name changed. A lot of first nations are speaking up about how the name Eskimo’s sounds derogatory to their people. It was a name created by the settlers. It in other words it makes them sound like caveman. Like them as a whole they are stupid and uncapable of regular everyday things. But the first nations aren’t saying to demolish the whole idea of the name being a cultural reference. They just want a compromise. Make it nicer to their community. This was proposed a few years ago but the team said no to this. But just guessing this didn’t stop them because well now theirs a poll. In ‘Totem’ a very good symbol and metaphor is used throughout the short story. The totems are symbols for the first nations. The whole time the totems are making noises and the people are cutting them down. It’s a huge metaphor for what has happened in the past. The ignoring of these people’s words and feelings “maybe if we ignore it, it will stop singing”. (King)

Now its time for a change. They will be heard and they deserve to be heard. These team logos and names need to be changed.