The other night Mitch and I were at the hockey rink for one of Kira's games. We were waiting for her to come out of the locker room and he was remembering an out-of-town tournament a few years ago that I didn't go to.
At out-of town tournaments all the families get rooms at the same hotel, usually one with a pool and if possible, a waterslide. The kids go nuts in the pool and the parents (some of them, anyway) party. Sometimes things get pretty wild.
On the trip Mitch was talking about, the one I didn't go to, he said that late one night one of the dads came and got him out of his room to participate in chicken fights in the pool with the other parents. Mitch said he and his partner didn't win. At this point I was feeling a little huffy. He was having chicken fights in a pool with some drunk mom on his shoulders and he never told me about it? What? Isn't this something a guy should mention to his WIFE? I snottily said, "Oh yeah, who was your partner?"
He said, "Kyle."
Oh. It was all dads. And after the chicken fight tournament they had waterslide speed trials.