Evidence that I have lost my mind

Today (well, yesterday by now), Charlie had a track meet. And despite my prayer, there was no wicked thunderstorm and it was certainly not a gorgeous, sunny day. No. When it was time to leave for the meet, it was gray and cold and raining steadily.

So what did I do? I grabbed a windbreaker and an umbrella, told Charlie to buckle up, and drove out in the rain, cursing the CYO for not canceling the meet. A sane person would not have waited for someone to cancel the meet. A sane person would have taken one look out the window, seen the downpour and fired up a movie on the instant streaming Netflix.

I did have the good sense to sit in the car during the 45 minutes of warm ups. But once the meet began, I ventured out to watch Charlie compete.

This is me after he won the long jump:

Once the long jump was over, I headed to the team tent to seek a little dry(ish) land. Charlie sat on my lap -- both of us trying to stay warm -- and I asked him if he just wanted to call it a day and go home. He looked at me like I had 3 heads.

"I still have to run the 50, the 100 and a relay," he said.

Sigh...

He ran the 400. It was a race he didn't have to run, but he was volunteering for extra races left and right, even though the rain had not let up at all. Maybe I'm not the only one who has lost his mind!

He placed second in the 50 right about the same time my toes went completely numb. Wearing sandals was probably not a good idea.

Then he ran the 200. Another "bonus" race. I was resigned to watching the 100, after which I was going to insist that we bail on the relay, especially since other members of the relay team had already (smartly) packed up and gone home.

But after the 200, he came and said "Let's get out of here. I'm freezing."

"But you haven't run the 100 yet."

"I've done my 4 events, so I'm done."

I started to argue, "You're signed up to run the..."

That's when it hit me. Had I lost my ever-lovin' mind? It was still pouring rain. My feet were frozen. My jeans (and my underwear) were soaked. My kid was ready to go home...and I was trying to talk him into staying longer?

Once I came to my senses, it only took about 3 minutes to gather up his stuff and head to the car.
Ten minutes later -- after my fingers had thawed -- we were on our way home and I was determined that I would never stand around at another freezing, rainy track meet again.

Next time, I'll send Mike.