My 13-year-old’s Peewee hockey season came to a close this weekend with a State Championship win – and, while I’m hard bragging, an undefeated league play record.  Thirteen, a goalie, had set a handful of goals for himself at the beginning of the year, including one around breakaways, and his final save of the final game was on a big breakaway.  I think I speak for parents everywhere that it’s so fun when our children find something that sparks their passion and makes them want to lean into it on their own accord (and not because their parents forced them to do so, which has been the case for both of our children for some of their previous activities; soccer, for example, was only played for the mid-game snack).  Also, Kyle was one of the coaches for Thirteen’s team, and it was also fun for me to see him do something he loved so much.  In summary, for Kyle, Thirteen, and me, the theme of this year’s hockey season was Fun.

For my nine-year-old, on the other hand, the theme of the season was Concessions.  I’ve written about this before, but the younger siblings of sports children get the full-on crap end of the stick.  They drive a gazillion hours in order to sit in hotel rooms and hockey rinks, with the only reward being the possibility of a swim in the pool.  They never get to choose the food, they never get to choose the activities, and sometimes they are the only sibling there, meaning they either become very good at making friends with the other team’s siblings or spend hours watching a tablet or wandering around beneath the bleachers picking up lost change.

For his part, Nine had a bit of a better season this year than those in the past because 1) he had a couple of sibling friends on the team, 2) he “missed” several weekends because he was in the Wizard of Oz, and 3) my parents took him for Bubbe and Zayde Time at the games they attended.  Still, though, everything was predominantly focused on Thirteen.

However, to return to my original point, this doesn’t mean that Nine didn’t have a good time.  He did.  He played his legs off, he was the recipient of more than one guilt present from his parents and grandparents, and he got an embarrassingly huge amount of his favorite thing in the world: concessions.

For as long as he could speak, Nine has liked any food or object sold from a stand or in a machine.  Even if the exact object is readily available without the need for purchase, he still prefers to make a transaction of it.  Once, he tried to convince me to buy him a package of fruit snacks out of a vending machine when I had the exact same bag of fruit snacks in my purse.  A few weeks ago, he ate McDonalds (his choice) in the parking lot of the rink, threw away the garbage, walked inside, and announced that he was hungry and would like popcorn, please.

And, because I’m the Parent of the Year, I said yes.  I said yes almost every time.  I personally kept every North Dakota and Minnesota Booster Club and youth hockey organization in the black this season.  You’re welcome.

The State Tournament was held in Minot, North Dakota, home of amazingly good concessions.  Knowing they have amazingly good concessions, and knowing that I was a sucky parent, Nine and I had a chat before the first game.

“You can have no more than two items at any game,” I told him, because he once finagled four bags of chips by asking my mom, dad, Kyle, and me separately for a treat.

“Yes,” he said.

“One of those items needs to be the healthiest choice available and you need to tell me what you’re going to buy prior to buying it,” I told him, because he had figured out pretty early on that if he asked me for a treat during the game I would just give him money instead of walking him up to the concession stand and helping him make a good choice.

“Okay,” he said.

“And if I give you money, you need to bring me back all the change,” I said, because Nine had recently taken to buying every kid in the vicinity of the concession stand a treat, and was well-known throughout the land as the kid who left $15 tips.

“Got it,” he said.

The puck dropped at the first game.  Five minutes prior, I had asked Nine if he wanted me to take him to the concession stand; unsurprisingly, he was not hungry.  The moment the game started, like clockwork, Nine appeared by my side.

“Guess what,” he said.  “I guess I am hungry.  I am going to get cotton candy and an orange ice cream bar.”

“Neither of those is a healthy choice,” I said.

“The ice cream bar is made of orange juice,” he said.

“The words ‘ice cream’ mean there is a lot of sugar in it,” I said.

He sighed a long, mournful sigh.  He ran back to the concession stand, returning two minutes later.

“Okay, I’m going to get a pretzel with cheese and cookie dough,” he said.  “It costs $6.”

“Okay,” I said.  I handed him a $10 bill.  “You will get $4 back.  Please remember to bring me the change.”

He appeared ten minutes later with an empty cookie dough container, a full pretzel, a coffee, and no change.

“I got you a treat!” he exclaimed.  “A coffee!  Your favorite!”

“Thank you very much,” I said, accepting a coffee I did not want.  “You know, Dad loves coffee; why don’t you bring this to him?  He looks cold.  Where’s my change?”

“Oh, it turned out that all of this cost $8.50 and the coffee was only $1.50 so I spent it,” he said.

“In the future, I’d like you to bring me back the change instead of getting any other items, even if it’s a very nice present for me,” I told him.

“Got it,” he said, running off to deliver the coffee to Kyle on the bench.

The next game was a repeat of the first: The puck dropped and Nine showed up by my side with a request for a grilled cheese and yesterday’s ice cream bar.  He returned with the grilled cheese, ice cream bar, and another cup of coffee for me as a present.  Again, I sent him to his father, but not before asking for my change.

“I spent it on temporary tattoos so that we can all be bros,” he said, showing me his arm and the arms of his friends.

I sighed a long, mournful sigh.

“That’s very nice,” I said, “but as we discussed, you need to bring me back change or we can’t have any more concessions.”

“Got it,” he said.  “No more tattoos, only coffee.”

“Only your two items, period,” I said.  “No more anything else.”

“Got it,” he said.

The Championship Game started at 11:45 in the morning.  We drove to the rink with one of Nine’s little friends, all of us having very recently eaten breakfast.

“I tell you what,” I said, already going back on what I told him the day before.  “You can each get a treat at the concession stand, and then Nine can get a pretzel for you both to share.”

They weighed their options, Nine settling on cookie dough and his friend choosing a different type of ice cream bar.  I reached into my purse and realized all I had was a $20 bill.

“I’ll buy it for you as soon as we get there,” I said, doing my best to be a responsible adult.

Kyle called as I walked in the door.

“The moms need you down at the tunnel to help cheer the boys on,” he said.  “Can you hurry?”

I hurried, Nine and his friend following behind me.  The boys took to the ice, and I sat down in the seats before remembering that I had bypassed the concession stands.  Not to worry, though – Nine was prepared.

“You don’t need to get me concessions,” he said.  “I can get them on my own.  I PROMISE no extra stuff.”

I paused.

“Okay,” I said.  “But you have to bring me back $10.  You have to.”

“Okay,” Nine said.

“You have to bring me back $10,” I repeated.

“Okay,” Nine said.

“Ten dollars,” I said.

“Okay,” Nine said. He returned a few minutes later with the cookie dough, the ice cream, yet another coffee (this one by Kyle’s request, so he got a pass), and $10.  We were all winners that day.

---

The photo above is of Nine with one of his concession hauls. It’s funny that he’s sitting in the stands because I think he watched a grand total of 35 seconds of Thirteen’s 49-game schedule this year.

---

This week on North Dakota Today we talked about Minot’s Mayor Tom Ross, my Nice Person of the Week, as Meadowlark Mercantile’s art vending machines. (Valley News Live)

These sweet boys are some of the kids Thirteen played against at the State Tournament. (Facebook/Valley News Live)

Fargo’s Lilly Danielle has gone viral for a beautiful rendition of the National Anthem. (Fargo Forum)

Valley City’s Leah Hochhalter is on her way to Washington D.C. to compete for a national prize in poetry. (KFYR TV)

Bismarck’s Horizon Middle School is celebrating ten years of theater. (KFYR TV)

---