Kallan is dressed in full cheer regalia, and she flips her high-perched sparkle-bowed ponytail as I enter the room. She gestures at Mark. “Daddy was just telling me how the cheerleaders didn’t talk to him when he was in high school.”
I look at Mark. “Where were you going with this, babe?”
Kallan giggles. “Right? Seriously, Daddy … were you hoping I was going to assure you that I talk to all the boys? Is that what you want?”
Mark doesn’t get a chance to respond, because Kallan flips her ponytail again. “So anyway … Daddy was telling me how the cheerleaders didn’t talk to him when he was in high school, and I was all … Of course they didn’t.”
Mark protests, “Wait, what are you saying?”
Kallan looks at her father appraisingly. “Feels like back in high school, you were one of the boys trying to grow a mustache, Daddy.”
Mark is outraged. “HEY!”
Kallan nods to herself. “Yeah, it feels like you were.”
“Think back, Daddy … when you were in high school being one of those boys trying to grow a mustache, was it really the cheerleaders who singled you out for ignoring? Or was it girls in general?”
“I thought so.”
29 thoughts on “It feels like you were”
I was a perky cheerleader way back in the day.
I totally would’ve talked to Mark.
He’s a babe, half-grown-in mustache or not.
You are still Mark’s favorite.
My Meredith cheered in high school, and when she graduated, Megan joined the squad (She would not cheer with Meredith, don’t even ask) and I’m pretty sure they talk to all the boys. They don’t take them seriously, but they talk to them.
Not possible that your daughters talk to ALL THE BOYS unless they go to a very small school indeed. Maybe 1200 kids in Kallan’s high school — if she talked to all the boys, she would never have time for anything else. Mark did not mean that he spoke to the cheerleaders and they refused to answer … he just meant that the cheerleaders existed in a social circle that did not overlap with his own, making interaction largely non-existent.
Kallan’s teasing doesn’t reflect reality … MARK WAS AWESOMELY COOL IN HIGH SCHOOL, I am certain, and Kallan talks to anyone who wants to talk to her.
That said, in every school in the world, there are people who never miss a single day of class and speak to no one.
Not even your daughters.
Also, I love the fact that your younger daughter refused to cheer with her older sister.
They go to a tiny school, a graduating class of less than 50.
Funny story about not cheering with her older sister. She tried out, made it, and then told them “I know I’m as good as she is. I’ll cheer when she graduates.” And quit. She could not cheer with her sister.
50 students? That’s pretty wonderful. Cheers to your daughters, who are (in no small part because of their mother) awesome human beings.
Although secretly, I still love your younger daughter a tiny bit more.
WHO KNOWS THEMSELVES THAT WELL?
My school didn’t even have cheerleaders … or sports, or anything really.
Also I love Mark and Kallan conversations.
You must have done SOMETHING in high school.
Do tell …
I was the kid who played the piano at lunch for the younger kids to dance to.
THAT … IS … AWESOME.
High school…It seems to harness weird powers and oddly formative relationships within.
My son goes next year, wow.
Maj is a junior … Kallan is a freshman.
Considering I am reading Fightball right now and laughing at their antics, I am in shock that they are in HIGH SCHOOL now.
RIGHT? I’ve been a bit torn about telling their current stories here at all lately, because for readers of Fightball, Kallan and Maj exist at 8 and 10.
It’s very odd.
Pretty sure you are unruffling Mark’s moustache, er, feathers.
Now you’ve made me imagine Mark as a chicken, so thank you for that.
with a moustache.
Cheerleaders didn’t talk to me. Of course I made no effort to interact. I was and still am the loner.
Much more comfortable with imaginary friends than actual people.
Which explains my love of social media.
I don’t have to see the people. I can imaginate them.
New favorite word: imaginate
Tell Mark the cheerleaders didn’t really talk to me, either.
Except for my sister.
We shared a bathroom.
My daughters share a bathroom, and I’m not sure if I can convey how very very much Maj is NOT a cheerleader.
One word. Owned.
So much giggling.
Mark is the Zen Master of letting things go. You people are merciless.
He really is … it’s a talent that has served him well.
As father and husband.
I always wanted to take a pair of scissors to the high ponytails. And now I have a high ponytail wearer. *sigh*
Kallan has been a high ponytail wearer for many years, and the day that she finally figured out how to do it herself … THAT WAS A RED-LETTER DAY.
So … much … screaming as I tried to gather her hair into perfect formation.
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