She did all the right things to try to fit in with all the other moms.
She brought and actually sat in the obligatory uncomfortable folding lawn chair.
On the sidelines.
With the other parents.
She had a camera for taking the occasional blurry bad photographs of kids jostling by.
She even developed a knack for holding conversations out of the sides of her mouth – so it looked like she was really engrossed in watching her child play while she traded parenting tips with the ladies around her.
But she never ever got the hang of yelling at her kid. Possibly it was because she didn’t understand any sports – so the idea of screaming ‘helpful’ instructions to her running huffing child didn’t make sense to her. After all, she was already pretending to follow the rules for the adults. Why would she have any good insights about the game ? In any case, if she was going to yell useful things at her daughter, she would pick stuff like “Clean your room!” or “Brush your teeth!” and not “Get the ball!” So she just sat quietly and let the other parents roar above her intermittent soft snoring. Oh yes, because of all the guidelines for her to know, she had also mastered the sly sideline doze.