Transvestites

I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine. This is Bob. Bob and I work together. Bob is a good guy but he likes to tease me. Lately he’s been on this “Soccer Mom” kick. He says that my kids will determine what kind of mom I will be and that eventually I will be a soccer mom.

I beg to differ. I will not drive a minivan and I will not put soccer stickers in the windows. I will not put “My kid is an honor student” bumper stickers on my car. I will not wear a t-shirt with my child’s picture silk-screened onto it. I will not stand on the sidelines of any game and/or activity that my child takes part in and yell at the umpire, coach, director, teacher or whatever for not behaving as if my child is the best thing since sliced bread. I will NOT be a soccer mom.

Bob insists that I will and nothing I said would convince him otherwise. Since Bob would not keep his opinion on this matter to himself and insisted on calling me Soccer Mom instead of Allison, I decided to see how he liked being pigeon-holed into a stupid stereotype. So now I’d like to introduce you to the “World’s Best Soccer Mom”. Everyone in the office thinks she’s just lovely. Oh, and Bob doesn’t call me Soccer Mom anymore.