My butt hurts

So along comes Barn Dance day at school and Lique is fired up and ready. I get off work at 4. It's 4:45 by the time I pick her up and get home. She tells me the Barn Dance starts at 5. So much for a bite to eat before leaving. Luckily they are serving hot dogs and we live accross the street from the school. I change and put on my best redneck boots, jeans, oversize belt buckle, Alan Jackson concert shirt and black cowbow hat. We just get there by five............................to find out it starts at 5:30. Papa is really hungry now! We mingle with other kids and parents. (Favoring the single mothers of course) Finally it's time to eat. I don't think my hot dog even got to say goodbye to it's beef by-product brothers before I inhaled it. Now comes the dancing part. YeeHaw. Lique gets shy and wants to stop after almost 45 seconds of dancing. A new record.

She decides she would rather go to the playground than dance, so off across the schoolyard we go. By now there's a tidal wave of defecting children and parents headed to the playground. She is in her element now. There is nothing quite as satisfying as watching your child completely forget everything and just play. When she was in preschool I would stand across the street and watch her play when she didn't know I was there. It's a beautiful thing to see child at times like that. Back to the present. At some point poor Lique gets run over by a boy about a foot taller than her. I can see she is more scared than hurt, but here come the tears. I ask her if she is hurt or scared and she just keeps saying "I don't know" while Niagara Falls are coming from her eyes. I hold her until she begins to calm down and wants a drink. We walk off toward the water fountains. She runs ahead of me when she sees some friends. At this point she starts yelling loud enough for anyone within 100 feet to hear "MY BUTT HURTS"

"Sheesh"