Cheers

Jenn knocked two teeth out of a protester’s mouth in front of the abortion clinic. She knew it would be difficult to have a baby but she didn’t want the abortion. She was crying so hard, the clinic told her to reschedule. She never did.

“It better not be a girl,” Jenn said. “If it’s a girl and she comes home in a cheerleader’s outfit, I’ll regret this. I hate girls, especially cheerleaders.”

I have a daughter who dressed up as a cheerleader every Halloween since she was three. She fulfilled her life-long dream to be a cheerleader in Junior High, the first chance she got. By about the third game she lost most of her excitement.

Screaming and showing off in front of an audience suited her fine. What wasn’t fine was having to share the spotlight with a bunch of other screaming girls. “All they want to do is show off how much they don’t eat and how good they did their hair. They giggle and smile and do the damn splits. They’re so irritating.”

I haven’t shared this part of my daughter’s history with Jenn. Maybe later.

One of my friends has two little girls. These aren’t a couple of little cheerleaders, but athletic, blond, gorgeous little girls. They like the word “no” and within five minutes, they’re usually having contests seeing how many grapes they can stuff in their mouths. They’re hardly the picture of submissive little cherubs.

I stopped by my friend’s house after spending the day with Jenn. I was attempting to tell my friend about my day with Jenn while her daughters, dots she calls them, kept running downstairs. It was bedtime. Boy or girl, I don’t know any child who is calm at bedtime. The girls were exceptionally not calm.

“Jenn’s scared of having a girl,” I said. “She just found out. So what did we see everywhere we went today? Little girls. They’re everywhere.”

One of my friend’s daughters peeked around the corner. “Get back upstairs!” my friend said. “Sorry.”

“At first, Jenn stuck her tongue out at the little girls. They’d smile, some of them, or stare. All kids like her tattoos.”

“Go, now!”

“After about the third encounter, I noticed Jenn staring and smiling. She’d wave and they’d wave back. She got a few of the little girls to laugh.”

“Dots are the best,” my friend said.

“She’s still trying to wrap her head around the whole being a Mom thing.”

“Maybe you should bring Jenn around here. Show her what little girls are really like.”

Right then both little girls popped their heads around the corner.

“No!” I said without thinking. “That’d make her run back to the abortion clinic!”

My friend started laughing. “Wait,” I said. “That didn’t come out right.”

Luckily my friend has a good sense of humor. If her daughters decide to become cheerleaders, it’s only because they can’t sit still.

My little ex-cheerleader, the General, decided to use her energy to try out for the water polo team. She made the Varsity team, even though she’s never once played or even seen a whole game.

The next day she and her team had their first game. There was no question; the General was playing all four quarters. They only had six players. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know the rules. She had a swimsuit, and she could palm the ball.

“It’s just like basketball,” her friends said. “But it’s in the water. You’re very intimidating in the water.” The General had national times for her age division when she was little. “You’re very intimidating on the basketball court, too.” There’s a reason we call her the General.

She hopped in the pool and giggled her way through the first quarter. Her and the only other girl she knew on the team fouled a few times and said, “What?” when the Ref tried to explain. The Ref ended up laughing. Every time he looked at the General and her friend, he almost doubled over in laughter. They only learned a couple of rules.

By the third quarter, the General’s friend had to be goalie. There was no one else available. The General had to guard the biggest girl on the opposing team. Gone was the little flexible giggling cheerleader. It went from who looked the best to who could elbow the hardest underwater.

Before long, the General scored one of three goals for her team. They lost by two, which was fine since the opposing team had about a hundred people and rotated players in and out of the pool every minute, it seemed.

The General shared a few tricks with Jenn about how you can elbow and punch and grab the opposing team underwater without getting fouled out. “Cool,” Jenn said. “I wish I could do that.”

I'll never let on she was once a cheerleader.

A little help? [] 1:29:21 PM