P.S.I.: of the Mother-Kind

For the biggest game of the Vancouver Canucks season, Game 7 of the Stanley Cup final, where were you watching the game?

I was waiting in line to register my son for hockey.  Is that classified as irony?

There I was at 6:10pm, fifth in line.  At the front of the line was a Dad reading a book; a Grandma reading a magazine; a lucky woman who brought her escaping  two year old son; an extremely nice Mom who had moved and explained the process of signature retrieval for transfer forms, just because they moved to a different area of Surrey. Another reason not to move.

Everyone ahead of me had a chair, so I followed along and grabbed one of the many from the registration room.  I had at least another 50 minutes to kill.

At 6:15pm, two more parents lined up for registration behind me. I sat and watched the game on my iPhone, JustinTV app, with the Mom ahead of me.  We all groaned every time the Bruins scored, making the reality of the Stanley Cup dream farther out of our the Canucks reach.

Then BOOM, I was suddenly body-checked into the arm rest on the left side of the chair.  I looked over to see this hulking thigh resting on my right arm rest and inching towards me.  It was followed by an empty, brittle laugh.

Little did I know but I was in the midst of a P.S.I. =a Personal Space Invasion of the Mother-Kind.

I blurted out, “Are you trying to body-check me out of my chair?” then laughed, the shocking version of my laugh.

She proceeded to ramble on about how long she had to wait, that she couldn’t possibly stand for that long, that this line was crazy. The one thing she didn’t do in her rambling conversation, was ask if it was okay that she sat on my armrest or apologize for bumping me so hard.

I informed her of the availability of chairs in the room next door but she laughed it off and said she was concerned about losing her place in line.  There were now two more people behind her now.  I reassured her that I would save her space and encouraged her to grab a chair.  She didn’t.

I hardly knew the Mom next to me but she kept shooting me wide-eyed looks and shaking her head anytime the woman spoke. I interpreted her body language to mean that I wasn’t the only one thinking  that this seemed rather odd, crazy, rude, annoying. Take your pick.

They started registration by handing out the application forms to all the parents in line.  As I awkwardly tried to fill out the application with my elbows touching each other, it happened. She fell of the armrest and onto the floor with a cartoon KERPLUNK.  I took my opportunity and used my pointy elbow to regain my right armrest back and scooted my butt over to regain my personal chair space again.  My invader stayed put on the floor, finally, I had room to breathe.

The rest of registration went fairly smoothly, minus the fact that I had not photocopied J’s birth certificate or my other documents.  Luckily, the office clerk at the pool happily photocopied all my paperwork for free.

I got home just in time to watch the end of the third and the ensuing riot.

Let’s just hope that Jackson is not on the Invader son’s hockey team. GULP!



  1. Oh jeez Nae, I could just see you. I miss your laugh, though the fact she didn’t move after that should tell you how lovable it is and infectious. Next time grunt or snort milk out your nose, maybe that would have driven her away LOL.

    Congrats on registering Jacks for hockey. I hope he enjoys it and has a great season. Jake is registered again, third year and is anxious to play (of course) I can’t wait to see pics and hey WELCOME TO BEING A HOCKEY MOM! It’s tons of fun!

    • Naomi Jesson says:

      Thanks Jodi. I am seriously concerned about being a hockey mom- you know the rumors. He asked to play, so I hope he gets on a team where some friends are there. Looking forward to the coffee. I already have the “rink blood” being that I was a “rink rat” as a kid. 🙂

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