One magical thing about winter

They glide out of the box at top speed with a vengence. Buzzers, sirens and bright lights. People scream obsenities to the guys in stripes. There really is an art in tripping and slashing. A fight breaks out and the crowd stands at attention. Broken sticks. Blood on the ice. Four year old little girls screaming "Fight" at the top of their lungs. There's just something about hockey that I adore!
My friend and I took my kids to see their first hockey game (Go Komets). We were just a tad bit late getting to our seats, but the instant the boys glanced at the action on the ice, they were hooked. I saw it in their eyes. "Whoa, SA-WEET!" I felt like the coolest mom, until a fight broke out on the ice and I lifted my youngest son up so he could be witness. I had a slight giggle over that parenting choice. "Here baby, watch the cool guys in uniform slash and knock out each others teeth. Now BOO at the ref who made a bogus call. Oh did you hear that? The girl behind us just screamed 'That SUCKS!'"
Man, I'm such a good mom. I started feeling better when I heard the little girl, a couple seats over, chant "Fight" at the top of her lungs. Then I knew I was among like minded people.
Next on the agenda... a womens boxing match. Oh, the thrill I get when I watch two women punch each other and spit blood!
Don't taboo the freak within. You know it's in you too. Let it out, it's just begging for some good blood on the ice. (This is what we Mid-West people live for when we're not tipping cows. Ha.)